Paper Dreams
by DollyMillionaire
Summary: It was a mistake, She was of no help to them. Dr. Charlotte Addley, Psychiatrist, was brought in to help save a tortured hostage to the Joker, and hoped to never to have to meet the man behind the greasepaint, but she got more than she bargained for. ON HIATUS, will be reutrned to.
1. Chapter 1

It should have happened on a dark and lonely night, with fog rolling in from the docks. There should have been an ill wind, and a dark shadow lurking behind me, following me down into an alleyway. It should have made literary critics cringe and gasp as they heard about the poetry of my kidnapping. But it wasn't like that at all. My abduction happened on a Saturday afternoon. I was out enjoying the sunshine during my lunch break while reviewing one of my patient's files. I was sitting in a secluded space in the small, concrete gardens situated at St. Mary's Hospital, feeling better about a patient I had just spoken to. No, I'm not a medical doctor, I am, or rather, I used to be, a psychiatrist. I was brought in for a consultation. The patient was showing unusual signs which I had only ever heard about, which showed itself in forms of self-mutilation. It wasn't serious, though had he been given a knife I suspect he would have done more harm to him and others, but let us be grateful that did not happen. What had happened was, he had started scratching his skin vigorously, to the point of drawing blood, and started to pull his hair out, and gave himself Indian burns on his ankles. It had gotten to the point where I had to restrain him for fear for causing harm to others. Thankfully, two years previously I had read upon a similar case of where that had happened… But I'm drifting off, the point is, I brought in to assist and diagnose, and I left feeling successful. I was feeling good about myself, and I hate to say it, but a little smug too. I was a young, female psychiatrist taking over Gotham City. I wasn't doing any Nobel-worthy things, so far I had only catered to whimsies of those who could afford my work and those who really did need it for their day to day problems, but I was happy in helping those for asked for my help. Which was partially the reason why I remained kidnapped instead of turning up dead in someone's garbage can. Someone needed my help, and though I couldn't save them in the end, I ended up saving someone else.

So, I'm still in the garden, getting ready to leave, when a strange man entered the enclosure where I was sitting. It was one of those enclosures where the walls of the building surrounded the garden, all windows peering down so that anyone could have watched me. You could look up, and see nothing but windows until you finally saw the sky. It was a funny box shaped little garden. Anyone looking out of their window would have seen me sitting at the table in the centre of the concrete garden, my back to the entrance, and this stranger with blood all over him. The garden felt like a stage, and we were the actors, beginning our play.

"Are you alright?" I asked carefully, noticing the blood on his hands and up his sleeves.

He peered at me from under his large bushy eyebrows. He crept closer, and I reeled back from the smell of rotting blood and iron. He rubbed one large hand over his face, and stared at my name badge.

"Dr. Charlotte Addley." He said flatly.

"Yes, that's my name." I confirmed, looking over his clothes. He was wearing a black sweater, with darkened patches where the souring blood had started to collect, and he wore baggy, paint splattered jeans that looked well worn. His scrunched up face was turned towards me, his eyes burning into my name badge, saying nothing as something rolled over in his head. It made me nervous, I realised after a few seconds. I wasn't so good around so much blood, and the stench of petroleum was giving to give me a headache.

"Are you on duty?" He asked hoarsely, jabbing his finger at my files.

"Yes." I lied, feeling more and more nervous around the man. "I just wanted some fresh air."

"I've got a friend who needs your help, it'll only take a moment-"

"I'm sorry; I don't think I can help you." I interrupted. "There are nurses inside if it is an emergency."

I awkwardly smiled politely and began to excuse myself, gathering up my things to leave. I was never a very good liar, so lying to this stranger made me feel anxious. He remained motionless, still stood between myself and the exit. I began to walk towards him, but he never moved, but instead chose to watch me. I walked alongside him, our sleeves almost touching, and I had to hold my breath as the smell of his sweat reach my nose, and gagged once I past him, my back to him as I reached for the door handle.

"It is an emergency, but we can't bring him to the hospital." He said, "It will only take a few moments and no-one will touch you-"

I stopped, my eyes widening in surprise. "What?"

I turned around to look at him, about to warn him off, but I regretted my decision to stand and face him, as I realised he held a cloth in his open hand, his eyes burrowing into mine. I yelped as the foul cloth made contact with my face, and leaned back out of pure instinct. Another arm snaked around my body to keep me from running, but that was the last thing on my mind. I reached up to claw at the man's fingers, but I found my hands heavy, and as I struggled for breath, my sight became blurry and unclear as I felt my body limbs twitch beneath me.

The man laid me down, my body folding up beneath him like origami in his hands. I lay on the ground, panting as he removed the cloth and stuffed it hastily into his pockets.

"You'll be okay; it will just deplete you of energy." The man promised, gathering my hands into his, wrapping them up so I could not fight him.

Another figure swam into my line of vision. "Let's go."

My mind became numb as I tried to grasp onto any thought that entered my mind, but a sudden, strange, warm hum of silence created a sieve, and all warnings of danger slipped away as I succumbed to the warmth. I felt slow, my limbs feeling heavy as I struggled to stand when they dragged me to my feet. The raw patch of skin around my throat felt sensitive to the chill spring air, and I looked up at the second stranger. His face was white, his eyes were dark, and fainted before my mind put together the thought that I was face to face with the Joker.


	2. Chapter 2

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* * *

Who knows how much time passed before I woke up. Minutes, hours, whatever. Needless to say, I wasn't going to be happy with the first person I laid my eyes on. Which, when I woke up, was no-one. I was lying in the back of a van, mouth gagged, hands tied, and someone's foot in my lower back. I realised I was lying face down on a greasy, slimy van floor, and I couldn't even see my captors. I groaned as I tried to stretch my limbs, my aching arms and legs moaning from all of the tight restriction. I felt the foot press down harder against my back and I gasped.

"Stay still." The man whispered, pronouncing each syllable carefully. "I don't want to have to repeat myself."

"Okay." I mumbled through the cloth, resisting the urge to push the cloth out of my out with my tongue.

There was a tense few moments where we both said nothing, and never moved an inch. I knew the van was open, as I could feel a chill drift passing over me, but I never considered making a run for it. Here in Gotham, you're taught to always go along with your kidnappers. I suppose it's because we have an unusual amount of 'Villians' in Gotham. Besides, I had no idea where I was, or even if the thug holding me down with his heel had a weapon. I wrinkled my nose, the smell of salt water was overpowering, so I supposed we must have been near the docks.

The thug nudged me again. "Get up ... slowly." He said.

I slowly began to sit up, careful as I might have set off the after effects of such a powerful drug use. I looked around me slowly, and sighed with relief as I noticed that the Joker was nowhere to be seen. Had he been at the hospital then? Or was that the drugs manipulating my vision?

I edged towards the open doors of the van and looked up into the face of a clown. Startled, I jumped back, but the clown grabbed me around the hips and pulled me forward.

"It's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you." He mumbled through his greasepainted moustache.

_These must be the henchmen, don't they usually adopt the persona of their boss?_ I thought. _Although these men seem quite polite, I mustn't forget who they work for._

I held my breath as he held me close, and distracted my self with pleasing thoughts, though this was swiftly disrupted by the action of this clown wrapping one arm around my waist, and the other around my thighs, lifting me up onto his shoulder. He placed his hand on my buttocks and another of my back as he began to walk away. I grumbled under my breath, but said nothing. I figured that shouting my head off would achieve nothing.

He eventually eased me down onto my feet effortlessly, and I growled at him, but he laughed it off, guiding me through a door as the other clown followed closely behind.

Each hands tied to the other elbow behind my back, I stumbled in one heel in front of the clowns who led me into the warehouse. I blinked in the sudden change of light as I found myself inside a camp! I was surprised to see beds and a small fire where the clowns gathered and chatted while cooking food, but there was the undeniable presence of weapons and illegal items surrounding me. The men openly stared at me, their eyes expressing the delight they found in my ripped clothes and slightly blustered look on my face. I cringed at the sight of the greasepaint on their faces, reminiscent of clowns, and attempted to maintain some form of order in my appearance. I soon lost said control and gaped openly at the sight before me, when I suddenly remembered the community college's training class on the villains of Gotham, the monthly mandatory class for citizens to attend to learn about their city's villains, ways to defend yourself, and general tips about living in such an area. I remembered one of the passing comments that had drifted about amongst both students and teachers alike. There had been rumours about the Joker that none of us even dared to joke about, excuse the pun. Needless to say, people left in their groups feeling less confident than before. I realise now, standing before a crowd of 50 or more clowns, that I was a hostage to the Joker, and this was his hideout.

"Oh m-my G-God." I stuttered in realisation.

A hand roughly grabbed my elbow and guided me through the crowd of clowns as my eyes searched the crowd, hoping that a certain pair of eyes would not catch mine. I looked up to the man guiding me and I shivered in alarm as the man squeezed my elbow.

"You'll only be here for a few hours, at the most." He told me, scratching his stubbly, paint smeared chin. "It's a simple job, but one we can't do. We brought a load of drugs along with us, and some tools too."

He led me into a separated area, hidden away from the others behind crates and boxes, and slowly led me into a handmade tent large enough for 5 or more men lying down. I wrinkled my nose as the familiar smell of iron, blood and toxic chemicals drifted about me and I stared around the dim light, waiting for my eyes to adjust. I was guided to my knees suddenly, and I held back from gasping in surprise as my palms hit the floor to hold me up. I had my eyes closed as I struggled to breathe, the stench of blood and other toxic odours sending shivers down my spine.

"He can't be fixed, we understand that, but we want him awake and able to focus." A voice rumbled behind me.

I looked up, intending to verbalise my confusion, but instead my eyes fell upon the lying figure of a deathly pale man who lay only inches away from me. I realised at once that the foul scent came from the unconscious man before me. I screamed softly as I saw his body mangled before me, clothes torn and bloody, skin stained red with blood. I leaned back, stuffing my fingers into my mouth in the desperate attempt to hold back the upcoming vomit from my stomach.

My eyes drifted down towards the man's arm, and I realised with a hollow thought that a tourniquet had been tied around where his elbow should have been. There was no other sign of difference between the upper arm and the forearm apart from the valentine red stained ribbon around the middle of his arm.

"His bones…" I mumbled, removing his fingers, pulling myself away. "They're not there."

"No," Someone mumbled. "He got one of the boys to cut into the back of the elbow, and _he_ pulled out the bone. Started to beat him with his own bones."

"There should be pools of blood." I added, horrified.

"Most of it is on him, doc, but the rest is in his stomach. Boss wanted him to drink his own blood."

"He's barbaric!" I screamed. "He's a monster, what man would do this?"

I began to cry. I cried for the man lying before me. I cried for me, also. I cried for us both and knew that together, we would leave this warehouse dead and forgotten.

"Lass, all you have to do is wake him up and get him to focus. He's close to death, but you can bring him back. If he lives, we'll let you go without a second thought. If he dies, then we'll hold no sympathy for you and kill you. Do you understand?"

A hand placed itself on my shoulder, and I shrugged it away angrily.

"You stupid man, you stupid _fool_! You ought to have read my badge! I am useless to you! I treat the mind, not the body!" Voices rang out behind me in confusion, and I turned, livid tears painting my face as I stumbled to my feet. "I am a psychiatrist! You idiots grabbed the wrong kind of doctor! I can do nothing to this man, now we shall both die, as there's no way _I_ shall ever leave this place _now_!"

I cried again, burying my face in my hands, unable to look at the costumed clowns before me. Again, voices rang out of confusion from outside of the tent, and I heard the strange clown that had guided me about kneel before me.

"You're a psychiatrist?" He asked softly.

I nodded, quiet as my face remained in my palms, and I felt the hand once more land on my shoulder, but I did not shrug it off. My mind was a blurry of confusion, disgust, horror and dread as I realised that one stupid mistake would lead to my eventual death. It was now out of my control, and I dreaded the thought of my body being dumped into the docks outside.

"There, there, pet. You don't need a degree in medicine to be able to wake this man up, do you? Surely you must know basic anatomy, and a fair understanding of drugs, right?"

I nodded again, silent as the grave.

"There we go, nothing to worry about then. All I need to see from you is him awake and active, and then we'll set you free."

I heard his body shift about, and he called out, "Now where is the boss?"

"Out. I don't think he'll be back til late tonight."

"Right. Do you think he'll wake up soon, doctor?"

I looked up, my mind racing as I thought of a million lies I could have told him.

My eyes locked onto his, and I answered. "No, but stranger things have happened."


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for the reviews! They've been wonderful :D Please do keep reviewing! I love to read everyone single one of them, but as I don't have much right now, it's kind of sad.

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I quickly barked orders at the clowns, and only a few listened at first, but once I began to question them as to whether or not the Joker knew I was even there, they began to scarper and collect the items I asked for. It was as I hoped. The Joker must have gone out looking for a replacement … whatever this man once was ... but his men must have found out the value of this man and decided that there was money to be made. That was one possibility. There was every hope then that I could complete my task and be gone before the Joker even got wind that I had been here. I was determined to finish this assignment and never speak of it again if it meant I would leave safely.

I sighed, brushing my fingers over my eyelids, hoping to block out the sight of the man with no bones in his arm. What man would do this, I wondered to myself. I had never heard of such a torture method. I opened my eyes and took a closer look at him. His face was haggard and roughly shaven, his eyes closed with a horrified look on his face. Whatever had happened, he had fallen unconscious during the procedure. I wondered if he had been given any drugs prior to my meeting him. And on that matter, I should have wondered if there was anything else medically I should know about him, but my thoughts were drawn elsewhere.

A man entered the tent. I kept my back towards him, my eyes fixed upon the unconscious man's chest. I was trying to see if he was breathing, as I had no desire to place my head upon his chest and listen for myself. I would be close to his face, close to the drying blood on his lips, and that torturous smell of blood, iron and vomit.

"Addley." The man said, low and forcefully.

I looked up, woken from my reverie, and found myself staring up into the face of a clown. That never failed to surprise me, seeing the grease painted faces of those thugs.

"What?" I barked back.

"You need to keep quiet and let someone else do the talk-"

I suddenly heard a man scream from outside of the tent, and both of us panicked. It was quite clear that the Joker had arrived earlier than his henchmen had hoped. I looked around, wondering if there was anything I could use to defend myself. To be honest, looking back now, that should have been my first thought, but it is funny how your mind works under pressure.

"Where is she?" I heard, the words sounding grave and angry.

I made a decision. I would come clean to the Joker. I would explain why I was there, what I was going to do, and I would keep calm and collected. I would separate myself from this situation and be aloof and detached. As though the whole situation was a daily occurrence for me.

I crawled out of the tent and stood up, casually brushing imaginary dirt away from my trousers, though inside I was trembling, and though I liked to imagine that I was calm and collected, I daresay even the thugs outside could hear my knees knocking.

I looked up, and our eyes met. The Joker was standing inches away from me, staring me down as he breathed heavily. I could see the scars underneath his painted face, forming a long Chelsea grin across his cheeks. He smiled, licking his lips as I realised what I was staring at.

"Do you like what you see?" He taunted, his green eyes flashing dangerously at me.

"I've seen little girls who wield make-up better than you do." I burst out, but regretted it and slapped my hands over my mouth.

I was screaming inside my head. Why did I say that? Of all the things I could have said, why did I choose to insult him?

He shook his head, facing downwards as his hair shuffled about. I stepped back slightly as he giggled. It was slow and agonising, but built up as he lifted his hand to reveal a switchblade dancing around his fingers. It almost looked like he was composing, the way his arms travelled through the air, his head hung.

"Funny, they didn't tell me you were like me." He said, lifting his head so I could barely see his eyes.

"Like you?" I asked cautiously.

"Such a Joker!" He screamed, jumping forward as he brandished his knife.

I screamed, swiping my hand out at his in a foolish attempt to protect myself. I instead got my palm slashed open as I fell backward onto the floor. I stared up at the Joker, shivering with fright as I cradled the injured hand in my lap.

"Now, what is it you're doing here, little girl?"

I didn't want to answer now, not after the firm reminder that he was in charge, and clearly in control. He stepped forward again, aiming his blade at me.

"Did you hear me? I asked you a question. Don't you want to answer it?"

"I'm here…" I whispered, holding my wounded hand closer to me. "I'm here, because there's a man … inside the tent."

He nodded, leaning down, closer towards me. I cringed, hating myself for thinking I could stand up to an obvious psychopath. His breath smelt foul, like sulphur, spent matches and battery acid.

"Go on." He muttered, twirling the blade around his fingers again.

"He's hurt," I said simply. "I'm here to fix him."

"Fix him?" He asked, glee in his eyes. "What interesting wordplay, Doctor. You could have chosen to 'heal' him, or 'cure' him. Why 'fix', Doctor? Why?"

"I don't know…" I mumbled, pushing myself away from him, closer to the tent. At that moment in time, I would have preferred the presence of the half-dead man to that of the Joker. "Please, I just want to go home."

The Joker stood upright. "Did you like what I did? Did you see my masterpiece? It took so many attempts to get it right. You know, it isn't easy separating bone from muscle. There's this fibrous connective tissue that's all sticky and oozy. Very hard unless you do it just right. Must have taken me several people before I had even began to scratch the surface…"

He laughed here, and gurgled, "Don't mind the pun."

I hadn't heard one, until I played over in my head what he had said. I groaned silently. I hated people who thought themselves witty.

He shook his head, giggling to himself. "Anywho, took me several attempts to get the bone out cleanly. And even then, it was difficult cos the patient had to be awake, but he also had to stay very still, so I couldn't do it properly. Too much fidgeting and I'd lose a scalpel!"

He laughed again, and I recoiled in horror at the thought of a scalpel being lost within someone's arm, missing between muscle and bone, the blade tearing jagged little cuts under the skin.

The Joker continued. "So I had my boys get me some Mivacurium. It blocks those little messages getting to your brain, the ones that say, 'Ouch, that hurts!'. Wiped him clean out, almost. He was just awake long enough for me to remove his bones from his arm at the shoulder socket and beat him with it."

I cried aloud, pressing a hand over my mouth as I listened to the words of this psycho, each syllable echoing in my head.

He licked his lips again, staring at me like as though I was a Sunday roast dinner.

"Would you like to try it? I can make it fun for you. You can just lie there while I take out your ribs. " He said dreamily to himself, grinning stupidly. When I didn't answer, he pointed at the tent. "Then crawl back in there and stay there. Speak to me like that again and you'll become my next plaything."

I nodded eagerly, frightened, and crawled back into the tent, silently grateful that I was alive to smell the toxic fumes of the Unconscious Man.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for the reviews! They've been wonderful :D Please do keep reviewing! I love to read everyone single one of them, but as I don't have much right now, it's kind of sad.

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I pressed my fingers into my mouth, muffling my cries as I rocked my self back and forth in the corner of the putrid smelling tent. My knees were pulled to my chest, my arms cradled against my body as I began to suck on my own blood, the bitter drink travelling from the cut on my open palm down my fingers and landing on my tongue. I needed medical supplies, but not only for myself, but now for the half-dead figure whose head rested on my shoes. The tent suddenly seemed too small for me, and I whimpered as I looked around, my tears clumping my eyelashes together, blurring my vision.

The half-dead corpse before me moaned and I froze as I shuffled closer into the corner. His eyes fluttered for a few seconds, and I stuffed my fingers deeper into my mouth to stop myself from screaming as he tried to move his boneless arm. It flopped about on the floor like a struggling fish out of water, and I watched as he tried to figure out what had happened to him. He looked down, at his feet, possibly trying to look out of the tent and see where he was, but then he looked up, and saw my face. His eyes widened and he moaned.

"Please stay quiet; I don't know what to do…_Please_." I whimpered, closing my eyes as I tried to calm myself. I began by wiping the tears off of my face, but I was still trembling. "If you make a noise, they'll come inside this tent, and I won't be able to control myself any longer."

The clowns said that they wanted him awake and focused, but how would I be able to do that? How could I get him to focus on his surroundings and stay sensible if his arm was mutilated? Perhaps if I asked him questions and tried to get him talking. Perhaps he would wake up more. Then I could tell the clowns, and they would let me go. That would be my fantasy, my little dream, my one little hope. They wouldn't touch me, rape me, kill me, torture me or mutilate me like this poor lost soul. I would be fine. I'd be home within a few hours, and I'd forget about this little incident. I'd be fine.

His eyes tried to focus on me, he tried to find me in the semi-darkness, though after a while he gave up and stared into the shadows blankly.

"It's alright," He groaned, his voice raspy and hoarse as he stared at me. "I'm still numb, I don't feel anything, though I feel a lot more sloppy for some reason."

"Do you know what's happened to you?" I asked, avoiding looking at his still twitching boneless arm.

"Not really. I remember being tortured by him, but I must admit, I've blanked out whatever it is that happened to me.

He began to look around him more clearly. His eyes saw me, and noticed my face.

"Who are you?" He asked suspiciously.

"Dr. Jennifer Addly. His henchmen brought me here to help you recover. Their mistake."

His eyes softened. "I'm sorry, I wasn't sure, because of your… face."

"Face?" I asked.

"Yes. You've smeared blood all over your lips and cheeks."

I whimpered again as I began rubbing the sleeve of my jacket against my cheeks. I didn't want to know what it looked like. I rubbed vigorously at my cheeks, desperate to be rid of my own self-pity and mistakes. To this man, the blood smeared across my lips and over my cheeks must have looked like a gruesome smile…

"My arm…My arm!" He shouted under his breath.

I looked at his face, and realised that he had not known what had happened to his arm until that moment. I felt pained as he tried to move his now unresponsive arm, and he growled loudly as he tried to sit up

"No, please, you have to rest." I said, pushing him, back onto his back.

"What for? What use am I now?" He muttered, staring at his boneless arm.

"You still have a life to live. Family and friends must depend on you. We both need to get out of here."

He looked up, his eyes clouding over again as he muttered to himself under his breath. I began to brush his hair out of his fevered face as I watched his fingers twitch.

"So why are _you_ here?" I asked.

He blinked as I reached down and began to rip up my skirt. Or at least I tried. Ripping up material is harder than it looks, I realised after a few seconds. I began to bite at the material, grinding my teeth until I managed to loosen some of the thread and rip apart the skirt until I got a fairly long and decent strand of fabric. I began to wrap up my hand and pointedly looked at him, hoping he would ignore my unusual actions and continue on. He did, thankfully.

"He wanted me to recreate an experiment I made back in the 70's. My work revolved around poisons with unusual side effects. He said he would fund my research, give me my own lab, equipments, assistants. I told him I would do it. After a while, I realised what his intention were, and I refused to work for him any longer. He told me he was gonna show me what happened to people who went back on their deals."

I cried as I wiped his sweating forehead clean with another scrap of my skirt. "And he took your arm for it?"

"Yes. It's like a horrible joke. No, a horrible nightmare. This will never be funny."

"What is your name?" I asked, throwing the rag into another corner.

"Robert Derby." He answered sleepily, his eyes closing as he fell asleep, his words slipping away as his fevered face relaxed.

I sighed, rubbing at my face as I tried to sharpen my mind. At that moment, I needed to be awake and I needed my wits to be sharp. I began to crawl out the tent and ended up crawling straight into the knees of one of the Joker's Henchmen.

I looked up and trembled as the figure loomed over me, his eyes tracing my face as he lifted me to my feet.

"I heard talking. He's awake then?"

"He was. He's asleep now." I lied. I wasn't sure if he was unconscious or actually asleep, but anything to let me leave…

"We need him awake, now!" He shouted, shaking me. "We've gotten you the drugs you asked for, and all of the tools are here too. What else do you need to wake a man?"

"Let go of me!" I shouted, trying to free myself. "You need a little patience, the patient has gone through a dramatic change in the last few minutes, the stress in his mind will disable him until his brain thinks that he's ready to cope with his new disability. It could be a few hours, or a few days, but he'll wake up soon, I promise you!"

He released me, and I buried my face in my hands. I cried softly, "What else can I do?"

A clown spoke up. "Somebody give her a stiff drink, eh?"

I looked up to see a young, tall clown leaning against some crates stare at me with pity. The other clowns hanging around looked at each other, before one of them left towards a storage room. The clown that had manhandled me, I realised, was the one who had personally picked me up from the hospital and brought me to this tent. He shuffled his moustache, his stern eyes focused on me, until he shrugged and walked away, throwing his hands up into the air with a drained gesture.

"Whatever. You guys know where to find me. _Watch her_."

One of the clowns returned with some Jack Daniels. I took the slippery bottle from them, noticing the grease oil and smeared toothpaste across the label. I began to take some slow, simple sips as I cried; holding the bottle close to me as I felt tears run down my face.

The clowns watched me, muttering amongst themselves as they gestured to me.

"You hungry?"

I nodded, pulling the bottle from my lips. I trembled as I staggered forward, my high heels making me stumble. I slowly began to remove them, and I threw them aside as I stood a metre away from the clowns. They held out a bag. I reached inside, the Whisky beginning to take effect, and I pulled out a sandwich.

No-one said a word as I began to eat, my tears stopping as they began to relax and talk easily amongst themselves. The smell of greasepaint and battery acid began to lessen, or I must have become more adjusted to the rancid smell, as I began to notice it less and less from that point on.


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks for the reviews! They've been wonderful :D Please do keep reviewing!

It seems like a bit of a slow chapter, but I'm hoping it it will pick up in the next few chapters.

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I stood silently beside a large clown, nibbling on the rest of my sandwich, listening to their conversations and commenting occasionally, though I felt awkward every time they looked at me with dull regard. I suppose they put up with me for the sheer fact that if they spoke up, they could gain the attentions of the Joker, which none of us wanted. There was an uneasy camaraderie between us all.

Had this not been happened to me, had I not experienced this first hand, I would have asked more questions, I would have enquired about their reasons for doing such a job. But I remained silent, stood there, my toes flexing in their stockings as grime collected beneath my feet. My hands were numb as I chewed my sandwich more, and I kept my head low.

My eyes drifted about the warehouse. There wasn't much to see. It looked abandoned, though there were a few moth eaten and soggy couches that the clowns fought each other for. There were crates too, with Russian sloppily written on the sides. I wanted to know what the words said and what was inside the crates, though I wasn't sure if I truly wanted to know given my company and their dealings.

The place were very dirty, I noticed. There was grime and sut everywhere, and I swore I saw rats running about at one point. I was pretty sure there would be mould too, but I didn't want to go looking for it. I had sighed, looking towards one corner, taking a swig of the Jack Daniels, when one of the clowns noticed me.

"What are you looking at?" He asked, pushing himself off the wall where had been leaning.

"I was looking for signs of mould." I commented lazily, staring at the nearly empty whiskey bottle. "I'll have to set up a station for when Dr. Derby wakes up. He'll need immediate attention. I'll need a clean work station, and I'm thinking that over there will have to do."

The clowns tittered amongst themselves, sneering at me as they rubbed their greased faces and swilled beer. One of them stood up, a bald middle aged man with large muscles and a larger smile approached me. He was very tall, I realised as he stood beside me, and I felt like a child in his presence. I only just managed to reach his shoulders.

"I'll help you set that up then. C'mon." He said, guiding me other as I heard the other clowns laugh and gaffaw.

"Thank you." I mumbled as I stumbled after him.

We went into the corner of the warehouse, closest to the tent, and I watched as he cleared the area for me, removing forgotten newspapers, assembling crates into blocks for me, to create a table. He smiled at me as he stood up, standing in a way as to suggest that he was finished and awaiting my appraisal, but all I could do was frown at the poorly constructed and dusty table. He sensed my disapproval, and rubbed his chin, smearing grease onto his fingers as he voiced aloud his thoughts,

"You don't like it?"

I froze, wondering what would happen if I upset him. "No, it's not that!"

He chuckled. "I can see it on your face you don't like it. Tell me what's wrong with it."

I fumbled with my hands as I stepped forward and gestured to the crate table. "I need a clean, usable table, in case I might have to operate. Is there any sort of steel plate we can place over this? It would be more sterile than moulding cardboard crates. And we could do with some cleaning supplies. Anything to get rid of the stench of oil and battery acid. Is that alright?"

He considered this, looking around him. "Don't worry, I think there might be table that'll work to your liking around here somewhere. Come with me."

I walked beside him as he headed over to a door I hadn't seen before. It was a small, separate room from the warehouse, possibly used as a tearoom, from the looks of it as we entered. I watched as stream of lights entered the room from behind us, the shadows that we made dancing across the floor, specks of dust flying through the air as we disturbed everything around us. We stepped forward, and his eyes caught sight of the stainless steel work table before us. He turned to face me.

"Will this do?" He asked, smiling.

I nodded shyly, and watched as he lifted it up easily and carried it under his arm, his eyes watching me for my reaction. I raised my eyebrows in appreciation of his strength, and wondered whether it was a show of strength and power, or a way to confirm the fact that in was in control. He seemed pleased with my reaction, and gestured to the cupboards behind me.

"You might be able to find some things in there." He mumbled.

I nodded again, and began to scrounge the shelves too. I found a few unused cloths for cleaning, and a spray bottle with some lime green liquid inside, that sloshed around like sea water. I opened it and sniffed cautiously. I smiled, relieved at the scent of apples.

We walked back to the corner of the warehouse and began to clean the area up, scrubbing the table and placing the crates nearby, ready to be used. We talked amiably over trivial things. I introduced myself, and he gave me a name I call him by in return, for we both knew I would never need his real name. He told me to call him 'Rugby', a name, I understood, which came from the love of the sport. It explained his muscles, I thought inwardly.

We paused the moments we heard screaming, and cries of my name. I shivered as my name echoed across the filling warehouse, and Rugby and I ran back to the other clowns, only to be greeted by the sight of blood and traumatised bodies.

There were a few clowns that had been laid on the ground. It turned out that they had been given a mission by the Joker to scope out a bank he was planning on robbing. Only it seemed that Batman had arrived to find them and decided to give them a warning.

"Batman did a number on your guys then." Someone commented, trying to hold back the blood on some unnamed clown by pressing a cloth to the man's shoulder.

"Give it here." I moaned, taking the cloth as I kneeled beside the clown.

It really annoyed me to see these men chatter and gossip as their friends lay in agony and suffering, so I began my role of nurse on the men as they lay before me.

I barked more orders at the standing clowns, telling them to take the seriously injured men over to my corner, making sure to kept their wounds clean, as I focused my attention on the clown before me.

I raised my body up, still on my knees, and pressed down on the cloth to the open wound. I put the weight of my whole body on the wound, pushing hard, and mentally checked myself before looking over the clown's body.

"You hurt anywhere else?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No, just bruises and scratches in some places. He got me with my own knife here."

"Alright, stay still, keep calm and let me know if anything else troubles you." I replied, motioning for a clown to come over and attend to this man while I checked the other out.

I spent the rest of the day mending the remaining clowns. Most of them could have done with some stitches, but there wasn't much I could do without more supplies. A few clowns left to get me some things, but other than that, we waited as we tried to make the situation easier for the wounded men. We listened to the moans of these men, and I tried to spend a little time with each of the men, to help calm them down and ease their pain.

I sensed that the clowns were beginning to gain a new found respect for me, and smiled a little more often now without gossiping to each other. I paused in my work, thinking things over as I knelt beside a man, staring down into his haggard and tired face.

What was I doing? Caring for these men? How could I do this, these were the men that abducted me! They had not threatened me, but their boss had, and I had reason to believe that if he told them to kill me, they would do it without a second thought.

I sighed to myself. Perhaps there was no other way around it. These were still men after all. How could I stand by and watch them suffer when I knew that I could help them? It seemed ironic though, and hardly fair that I would be stuck doing this. It wasn't that I resented doing this job, it's just that I wondered why it had to be me.

Perhaps I was doomed to aid the men that would hurt me.


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you all for the reviews! I really am starting to love this story!

After that day, they all paid more attention to me, the curvy, mousy doctor that held no real sway amongst them. I drifted through the nightmarish play that was my current predicament, and they followed my actions, their curious and malicious eyes watching each step I took, each move I made. Every word I spoke, they listened to, but never questioned. If they respected me, or even liked me, they did so in silence. It seemed as though I was the only one with a voice, as though I could say words without fear, without retribution. The act of caring for their men, I wondered, seemed to raise their opinions of me. Perhaps they gossiped over why I would help them willingly. Perhaps they argued about my motives. Who knows, they kept to themselves, in the end. I tried to talk to them, asking simple things, never daring to ask about the terms of my freedom, or their plans for me and the scientist, and they would have the courtesy to answer my questions, talk to me about idle issues, but we both avoided the real concern. I was their hostage, and they had to assert their control over me.

Which was why, when evening fell on the first night, I began to grow nervous. Most of them by this point had started to drink, gamble, and if any of them did any drugs, they never did it around me. I tried to keep myself busy by attending to the wounded clowns, and occasionally checking in on Mr. Derby, changing the damp cloth I had placed on his forehead, checking his temperature, and so on, but there came a point when I realised that I would have to sleep somewhere and I would not sleep in Derby's tent, not with his arm, still twitching as he slept, filling me with nightmares.

At some point during the evening, they had turned on the overhead lights, and I had emerged from the tent, blinking in the bright lights, to find myself kneeling before some clowns. It seemed that Rugby, the clown that had prepared me the stainless steel table before, was leading this little team.

I shivered before them, hoping, praying, that they weren't going to grab me suddenly, duck behind some foul smelling crates and take me. I could see on the clowns' faces that they would love to do some really nasty things to me, but held back due to the all too real fear of being punished by the Joker.

I stood up as Rugby spoke softly, "We did you a bed."

It sounds really Oxford of me, but I was stumped by his grammar for a few seconds.

"Sorry?" My heartbeat was pounding in my ears.

"The lads and I found you a bed you could use." He said, jabbing his thumb behind him. "We done it up some, so you can sleep right."

I smiled genuinely. "Thank you, that's very nice of you. I could do with some rest, but let me just check on your friends before I retire."

Rugby nodded, and they began to talk amongst themselves as I checked on the injured clowns. Earlier that day, someone had handed me some needles and thread, and I had sloppily managed to stitch up some of the more serious injuries, but most of them hadn't needed it. Whoever Batman was, he knew how to injure men without seriously harming them. He knew how to handle his weapons. I had gathered some information from the injured clowns as I was attending to them, and as far as I could tell, they had been on some rooftop across from the bank, and Batman snuck up on them, taking away their knives and managed to cut his way through the group, disabling a few without much effort, but someone pulled a gun and narrowly missed shooting Batman in the arm, and he soon left. It seemed that for a man who could deal a lot of damage, he couldn't take it. I once had the fortune of assisting Batman in one of his … missions? I'm not sure what he would call it, it was some unusual task and he wanted my opinion on some criminal he was up against. I remember forwarding him my notes on one of the super criminals onto his PDA, and he had seemed gruff and impersonal, though, to be honest, it wasn't really the time for 'Hello, how are you?'

I was quickly withdrawn from my thoughts of Batman by Rugby, who was impatient to show me my 'bed'. I followed his little team to the tea room that Rugby and I had raided before, and smiled as I realised that they had done more than make me a bed, they had hastily and clumsily cleaned up the dusty tea room to make me a bedroom. Truthfully, it could hardly be called a bedroom. One of them had pushed all of the boxes, crates and other large items to the other side of the room, which left long trails of dust-free floor, while another had pulled one of the couches into the room and thrown a few soggy cushions and a moth eaten blanket onto it. To me, though, it looked like heaven.

"Thank you!" I said, beaming. "This is wonderful."

Rugby grinned. "Hoped you like it."

I nodded sadly as I realised that I mean the next two words I would speak. "I do."

The other men awkwardly smiled at me when I looked at them, and they soon shuffled out of the large, empty room. I looked around me, staring at every inch in silence. Every word I wanted to scream, every second that I couldn't truly have to myself, every tear I could not shed anymore, filled the room and choked me. I choked on the silence, the endless time, the unbearable feeling that I might never escape.

I was not supposed to smile and beam at them. I was not supposed to be doing this. I needed to stop.

I crawled onto the couch, and pulled the blanket up around me. I wrinkled my face at the smell of lime that the cloth produced, and slowly fiddled with it, creating a long thin shape with it, and hugged it, pretending that it was an arm. I fell asleep, knees drawn up to my chest, hugging the arm blanket, trying to hate the men stood outside my door, laughing amongst themselves, and dreamt of shadows, twitching bloodied smiles, and the colour green.

* * *

There was screams. That was definitely true. It was misty and foggy in my dream, there was no definite shapes or colours, but there was screaming. It was a man's voice, someone that I knew, and I found myself screaming along with the man, holding my hands over my ears.

"Dr. Addly!"

I was still screaming. Hands grabbed me around my shoulders, and I found myself looking up into the eyes of Rugby.

"I…" I was tearing up, my eyes blurry as he gently shook me.

"Dr. Derby needs you. He's screaming his head off. He won't let anyone near him, and says he'll only talk to you." Rugby gushed, bringing me to my feet.

"Yes, I'll see to him." I cried, realising that my nightmare had merged with real life.

I fixed my hair, strands of my red hair falling out of my bun, and adjusted my pencil suit. Rugby guided me over to the tent, cradling my elbow in his hand, and we heard a salacious and deadly voice ring out,

"_Paging Dr.__ Addly_!"

Rugby and I approached the Joker, who was stood outside Derby's Tent. Our eyes met, and he licked his lips distastefully, jittering about as he fidgeted with some knife in his hands.

"Pleasant dreams, Doc?" He asked, grinning. He wanted me to know that he knew I had screamed in my sleep.

"Fine, thank you." I said, pausing to address him.

I could Rugby tense beside me as the Joker's eyes drifted down to where his hand held my elbow carefully, but I kept my gaze on the Joker's face, determined to win this round of chicken.

"Making friends I see." He said, our eyes reconnecting. His hands twitched, and I flinched inwardly.

"Yes." I said, trying hard not to cry, as light reflected off of the knives he held, into my eyes.

"You must be cold, you're shivering so much!" He cackled, leaning forward.

I hadn't realised that I was trembling. So much for self control. I heard whimpers and moans emerge from the tent, and it swiftly built up my bravery.

"Do you want me to help this man or do you just want to torture me?" I asked, in a sudden burst of courage, desperate to help Dr. Derby.

"Oooh, _Choices_." He laughed giddily, bouncing from one step to another. "Unusual choice of words too!"

Of all of the things I could have said, I regretted saying that the most. I gritted my teeth as another muffled whimper surfaced from the tent.

"From the sounds of it," I commented, pausing for effect, "He sounds like he's in real pain, and I will need to treat him as soon as possible, or he'll be useless to you. Or you could keep me here, and pointlessly annoy me. Your choice."

He raised an eyebrow. "My choice? Reminds me of something. A real funny something. You wanna hear a story? You wanna hear how I got my scars-"

I held up one hand to stop him. "Do we have the time?"

He licked his lips, and held up one knife to my face. "We will when I carve you a new face."

I held very still, watching his face as my lips quivering. His eyes, I noticed, were a dark mix of amber and green, which flashed angrily before me. His eyes followed his knife, which drew itself against my full, pink lips, and he began the trace the edges of my lips with his knife, his eyes focused on them. I watched as his pupils shrank to pinpoints, and was about to question this in my head, but they went back to their normal size, and his pulled himself away.

"Nah, wouldn't be fun." He said, twirling the knife around his fingers. "You look like you'd enjoy it."

I opened my mouth to ask him what he meant, but he grabbed my shoulder and pushed me down onto my hands and knees. He walked around my body, viewing it happily, as though I was an interesting piece of art, and placed his boot on my skirt. He cackled, and pushed me into the tent.

I knelt inside the tent, beside the drifting flaps of the tent that formed the entrance, and pulled a face as I tried to figure out what exactly the Joker had meant throughout that little charade, but was quickly distracted by the sight of Dr. Derby waving his arm in the arm, clutching onto the boneless remains of his pale white arm.


	7. Chapter 7

Thank you all for the reviews! I really am starting to love this story!

******* ! IMPORTANT ! *******

**This chapter gets really gorey. I would love it if you read it, but I understand if you don't. I'll mark off where it starts to get a bit gorey, and mark again where you can start reading from!**

*********** ! IMPORTANT ! *******  


* * *

So that was it then. The moment I had secretly feared. I had prepared for the worst, making sure there was a clean space to perform, though I had hoped that the moment would never arrive. It was stupid of me, I realise. I could not avoid the issue any longer. It was a shame that this moment had come so soon, and while I was in such a distressed state. There had been some suspicion in the back of my mind as to how I would ever be able to do it, but now that I had been ordered to carry out this duty, I would not shirk the responsibility.

I brushed away my fears as I tried to clamber out of the tent. I was shaking so much that Rugby had to hold me around my shoulders and to hold me still. I buried my face in my hands, and breathed deeply, attempting to calm myself. I was tried of feeling so weak around these men. I would hold myself together for the men, to show that I was not scared of my duty.

Rugby knelt in front of me and held me carefully in his arms, like a small child. He gathered his sleeve up in one hand and began to wash my face. I smiled slightly at the warm, unusual gesture. Another clown kneeled beside me and began to rub my back.

"It's okay…" He soothed. "It's okay…"

I hiccupped slightly. How much of a state was I in that my kidnappers had to comfort me. I looked up, and Rugby attempted to smile. I realised within a few seconds that the Joker was no longer there. I was grateful that I no longer had to keep up a brave face in front of his tortured face. The clowns gathered in close as Ruby began to speak.

"What happened? You were in there a while, and it was quiet." Rugby asked, finishing carefully with my face.

I looked up into his grease painted face.

"I'm afraid it's his… arm." I said, my voice trembling, though I tried hard to keep calm. I cleared my voice and tried again. "His arm is dead. I don't know what to do, but it's of no further use to him. It's just rotting away, and it might consume the rest of him if I don't amputate."

I heard the clowns mutter, and I moaned beneath my breath.

"I need to do it now. If we wait, he might get worse. I'll need a few things. Some surgeon's knives, needle and thead, clean hot water, some towels, that sort of thing. I'll also need a few of you to hold him down, I can't have him moving."

Rugby patted my head. "Okay. We'll get some stuff. Let's get him over to the table."

I nodded, and clambered to my feet as the clowns dispersed. Rugby gave me a comforting wink, and clambered into the tent. I sniffed for a minute, looking at the tent entrance as I heard some words being exchanged. I rubbed at my face, berating myself for being so weak.

I puzzled over Ruby's actions. He seemed so warm and gentle, and his actions seemed to be spreading to the other clowns, slowly. He was too nice a person to work for the Joker. So why did he? Was it money, or power? No, it seemed seem like the things Rugby would want. Women, perhaps? Though how this job would draw the women in was drawing a blank for me. I began to muse further over Rugby and his actions, until the man himself appeared with Dr. Derby in his arms.

He gave me a confident look, and together we walked over to the stainless steel table. Rugby laid him down, and looked expectantly at me.

"Rugby, I…" I paused. "I'm not sure I can do this."

He placed his hand on my head and smiled sadly. "I bet you could. You seem like a confident young woman."

I nodded, biting my lips. "I have to ask you something."

"Oh? What's that?"

I looked up sadly. "…Why do you have this job? Why do you work for the Joker?"

He sighed, removing his hand from my head. He closed his eyes and thought about it for a moment. "Sometimes, there is no choice. I was not driven this by wanting things, but by needing them."

He opened his eyes, and studied me seriously. "I'm here, because fate dealt me a crooked hand. I didn't do so well in life, and I ended up on the streets. I was cold, hungry and lost. I was afraid for my own life. No-one was there for me to lean on. Then one day, I saw met someone through chance. He told me he worked for the Joker, and could get me a job. When you grow up in Gotham, you're taught from an early stage in life that either you take, or surrender. And that's how the Joker works. It had nothing to do with whether or not we have the same goals, or whether I want money, or power. It's to do with surviving."

"Surviving." I murmured, looking down at Dr. Derby.

Rugby nodded. "Don't get me wrong. Sometimes, the money and power does feel good. I enjoy having those things, but that doesn't mean I enjoy the career choice. There are some jobs that some people can't handle."

"I see." I didn't really.

Some of the clowns returned, and we soon set to work. I we pulled Dr. Derby's body to one side of the steel table, and I watched nervously as he drifted in and out of consciousness. I prepared the cutting instruments by placing them in a tin tray of hot water. One of the clowns had tossed me his hip flask, and told me there was whisky in there. I honestly have no clue if it would be of any use, but I had managed to skip some down the Doctor's throat, and poured some into the tray. There had been a few changes to the list, not all of the items had been acquired. Instead of scalpels, I had a saw and a few Swiss army knives the clowns had lent.

"Rugby, hold his arm out, and keep it firm and steady." I told him, taking control as I bean to wash my hands. I was slowly beginning to lose my nerve as I stared down at the Doctor.

He did as I told him, and held his arm out horizontally. I ordered some clown to press down on his body with all of their weight, and to not let him struggle.

"I'll need to make a tourniquet." I told them, kneeling down before one of the clown's shoes and unpicked his shoestrings. No-one said a word as I began to tie the shoestring around Dr. Derby's arm, as high up as I could go.

"Here we go." I said, taking a deep breath.

******* ! Stop reading here if you don't want to know about how she does it! ! *******

* * *

I motioned for Golden, another clown I had managed to make friends with, to step forward and begin to cut the skin. Using a sharpie, I had marked the skin to indicated where to cute, and where to fold back the skin, and I watched as Golden followed the lines carefully. I had chosen him to do this, because he had the sturdiest hands, and was the only one who would not flake, as far as I could tell.

Golden held back the flaps of skin, and weighed them down with crocodile clips attached to some small weights of some non description. I would use those flaps to stitch the skin over the severed stub of the Doctor's arm and seal the skin. I had watched awkwardly, holding the hand saw in one hand, the other hand over my stomach. Dr. Derby squirmed and moaned loudly, his body twitching as the clowns held him down.

Once Golden had finished his job, he stood back and gave me room to operate. He held my back and held me steady as I drew up the hand saw and began to cut through the muscles. I realised in shock that there was bone still inside the arm, where I had decided to cut. It seemed that the Joker had not taken his entire arm when removing Dr. Derby's bones. I watched in horror as the muscle, began to move along with the saw. I realised that I would have to hold the muscles themselves to stop them from moving as I cut them. My hand slid in under the skin easily, thanks to the blood streaming down my arms, and I held the flexing muscles still as I managed to cut further through it. Doing this job was not easy, though I _do_ wonder if I make it sound so trouble-free. I must admit, had I not withdrawn myself from the situation, I would not have managed to take a step towards the massacred arm. I had stayed aloof, above it all. I remained distant and detached as I reached for the coping saw, and began to hack away at the slowly splintering bone.

By this time, the Joker had joined us and was standing close by, watching us work together to save Dr. Derby. I realised, in the back of my mind, that he was there to watch _me_, to observe me , and he wasn't truly concerned for the outcome of the operation.

"What a fun hobby, Dr. Addly! I must have, there's nothing I enjoy more than…"

"If you're going to stand there…"I growled, the bone finally splitting. "Then you can help. Hand me the hand saw."

He paused, smiling oddly. He held hand hands in his pockets, watching me operate, as though this was a morbid little performance I had put on just for him. I remember thinking that perhaps he wasn't going to help, but at last, he stepped forward, brushing his oddly patterned sleeves up as he handed me the hand saw.

"Hand me the hand saw." He giggled softly under his breath. "Hand me the hand saw."

I groaned softly under my breath I as took the saw from him, and I saw him react as my bloodied fingers brushed against his, but I never thought about it as I began to hack away at the remaining flesh. By this time, the patient had begun to scream, and the clown had a hard time holding him down. Rugby stood awkwardly beside me, holding the dead arm, trying not to throw up as the flesh in the hands began to stretch.

"Give him some more whiskey!" I barked at the Joker, Dr. Derby twisting about under my hands.

He did as I was told, flashing me a grin, and grabbed the hip flask sloppily. His fingers, covered in the doctor's blood, reached for Dr. Derby's mouth, and pulled it open. I watched lazily as blood trickled down his fingers onto the patient's teeth, and as the Joker jammed the bottle down into his mouth.

Dr. Derby calmed down, but began to twitch as I finished sawing through the last of the flesh, and Rugby fell backwards a few steps as the arm came off in his hands.

I breathed roughly, hanging my head back. I relaxed my body. I hadn't realised how tense I had been. My inch of my body ached, and I reached up and tried to ease my neck. I sighed, and brushed the sweat from around my face, and looked at the Joker.

"Take that needle and sterilise it."

The Joker, by now, was grinning madly. He looked like he couldn't contain himself, and openly beamed at me as he pulled a lighter out and began to sterilise the needle. I watched, realising we were now standing beside each other. He had brought over a stool, at some point, and was perched against it, looking at the needle in triumph.

He began to thread it for me, and I watched as he held the needle up to the light, closing one eye, and stuck his tongue out in concentration. I watched his tongue, pink and fleshy against his red painted lips, and looked away, embarrassed. Why such a thing had fascinated me, I had no clue, and I didn't want to look into it too deeply. After all, it wasn't a safe bet seeing as I was a psychiatrist.

He handed me the thread, and I slowly began to sow up the leftovers flaps of flesh that I had saved for now. I folded the flaps of skin over the stub, and finished within a few minutes, glad to see the Dr. Derby had stopped writhing beneath me. A few of the clowns didn't have to hold him down now, and one of them had actually gone and retrieved a pink cocktail for the Joker. He sat on his stool beside me, and sipped at the pick fizzy cocktail as he watched me.

I would have laughed had I not been in this situation.

* * *

******* ! Start reading here to continue the story ! *******

I finished sooner than I thought I would, and stood back at take the whole view in. Dr. Derby's eyes were glazed over as he looked around him, and I wondered about it, but brushed it from my mind as I looked at his stub of an arm. It moved about slowly, and it seemed his couldn't move it far.

"Dr. Derby, can you hear me?" I asked, leaning in. "Don't try to move your arm, your stitches might come undone, okay?"

I realised within a few seconds that he probably would forget, or didn't hear, and asked one of the clowns to take him back to his tent. I would watch over him and made sure he didn't move around too much.

I was about to follow the clown as he began to pick up the Doctor, when the Joker stopped me.

"So…" He began, showing empty excitement, handing his empty glass to a clown standing by. "How much fun was that?"

I winced. "Clearly, our ideas of fun are very different."

"I, uh, don't know about that." He said, smiling. I think… the red paint made it very hard to decide if he was.

I raised an eyebrow, and walked back to the tent. I didn't know it then, but later, I would talk to the clowns about the operation and thank them for their help. During the discussion, one of them would tell me something that would make me hate myself.

For the whole of the operation, I had a smile on my face the whole time.


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you all for the reviews!

I'm just wondering if you guys would like me to add in the Joker's perspective.

* * *

I crawled into the tent, where Rugby had waited for me patiently, perched in one corner of the tent, lurching over the unconscious Doctor. He sat on the balls of his feet, and looked up at me with a crooked smile on his face.

"You were right, I could do it." I said, nervously laughing.

I brushed my fingers through my hair as I tried to steady myself. I was trembling so much. So much that I hadn't noticed…

He sighed, "Yeah. Listen, would you like a bath? You might want to clean yourself up."

I looked at my hands. I had forgotten they were covered in blood. That was how nervous and jittery the Joker made me feel, you just forgot important little details like that.

"Yes, thank you. I could do with a bath." I commented gratefully, as I pushed myself onto my bum and loosened up as I imagined a lovely hot bath. I hugged myself happily.

"Alright, I'll go out and pick you up a tub and some water, then." Rugby said slowly, watching me as he crawled out of the tent.

"Okay.," I said distractedly as I slipped off my high heels.

I tossed the stiletto shoes into one corner of the tent, and reached up my skirt. I slowly unfurled my tights, balancing myself on my knees, and pushed them down over my knees. I pulled them off and tossed them along with the shoes as I undid my bun, and brushed my fingers through my hair properly, loosening the knots in my hair. My hair felt stiff and course as my fingers rolled through them, the white blonde curls lightly touching my shoulders.

Dr. Derby began to move around now, and I looked over at him, and was surprised to see him awake.

"Dr. Derby?" I asked in surprise.

"Hhhmmm." He mumbled.

I got onto my hands and knees and crawled over to lie beside him. I placed my hand on his forehead and frowned as I realised he was burning up. I looked around for the towel I had placed on his forehead from before, and reached for it when I found it. I placed it back onto his head, and reached over him to check his arm.

It was surprising to look at his arm and feel happy about it. I saw the stitches, and felt pride. It was disorienting, and I had to sit back to stop myself from feeling too dizzy. I placed a hand on my forehead (In some silly attempt at keeping my head from spinning – ha!) and I realised that I also was feeling quite hot. I wondered briefly if that was the reason why the Doctor had felt so hot and whether the cause was because of this heat-trapping tent. As I removed my jacket, I wondered if I was alright for me to strip like this. I had inspected the tent beforehand, there were no peeping holes for anyone to look through. Also, I reckoned that Rugby would probably be half an hour if he was trying to find a tub and some hot water. So I began to unbutton my shirt and loosen my sleeves as I thought over the Doctor's health. I began to hitch my skirt up as well, letting the excess rest around my hips, and I sat beside the Doctor, bum on the rough floor, legs splayed outwards as I began to loosen the Doctor's clothing, as well as anything else, such as shoes, socks, his watch.

Rugby crawled into the tent, dragging a large tin tub behind him, and paused in shock as we caught sight of each other.

"Ah, ah…." I mumbled, frozen in horror as his eyes travelled up my bare thighs, and stopped at the sight of my breasts from under my shirt.

"Oh my…" He whispered, clearly entranced, before realising his mistake.

I blushed and grabbed for my jacket, covering myself. "Get out!" I shrieked.

"I'm sorry!" He gushed as he scrambled backwards awkwardly.

He landed in the tub, which had been pulled halfway into the tent, and had kept the tent flaps open, which allowed one or two of the clowns to peer into the tent. I shrieked again in horror as their pale white faces realised what they were looking at. A few laughed as Rugby rushed out get out of the tent, scrambling over the tin tub, and hurriedly tried to close the flaps.

"Rugby!" I shouted in annoyance. "You idiot!"

A few more clowns laughed at Ruby as he hung around the entrance to the tent and stuttered an apology.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to look! I didn't know you were going to get undressed!"

"I wasn't getting undressed; I was trying to cool down! I thought you were going to be more than 5 minutes!" I shouted back, covering my face in shame.

"I'm s-sorry!" He stuttered.

"Just push the tub in!" I told him.

I watched in irritation as the rest of the tub was pushed in. I looked inside, and realised there was a mirror resting inside the tub as well. I looked over at the flaps that was the entrance. There was a little but of space that I could see though, and saw Rugby's hand resting there. I watched it, frustrated at him for walking in, and then having the audacity to admire my breasts, but I was more angry at myself for presenting myself like that.

"There's water here as well, but it's not hot." Rugby mumbled sadly.

"…Thank you." I paused.

I reached out and placed my hand over Rugby's. He tensed, and I heard a few clowns chuckle. He relaxed though, and I said,

"Sorry. It's _my_ fault. I bet we're both feeling pretty dumb, huh?" I paused. "And thank you for the mirror."

I was about to remove my hand, when I heard a dark, low chuckle. I froze when I realised who it was.

"I think she meant to be talking to you, uh, guess she just got my hand by mistake!"

I pulled my hand away in outrage and horror. It was the Joker!

"And, uh, darlin'? Loved the bra, black and lacy looked perfect on you."

He began to cackle, and I scrambled back from the entrance, horrified as I realised he must have seen me as well as those other clowns. I had also held his hand!

"Would love it if you put on another show soon, ta tah!" He giggled as he left.

I moaned hopelessly as Rugby, panicked, started to call for me.

"Dr. Addly, I'm coming in, okay?"

I made sure my skirt was pushed down and I buttoned up my shirt as he came in, red cheeked and out of breath.

We stared at each other, embarrassed and shy.

"I _am_ sorry." He said, staring down at the floor. "I should have just turned away."

I blushed as I hid my face behind my jacket. "I know, it's okay."

He looked into the tub. "Thought you might like the mirror. One of the other lads brought it in for you."

"Thanks, I bet I look like a mess." I said, half-heartedly laughing.

"Um, well…." He mumbled, looking around awkwardly.

"Um, What?" I prompted, a little insulted.

"Take a look in the mirror."

I held up the mirror and screamed in surprise at my reflection. I had cry blood caking my arms, all the way up to my elbows, and I watched as my arms flexed, and the cry blood created cracks down my arm, like the Nairobi desert. My hair, which had once been white blonde, was filled with streaks of red, where I had tried to brush my hair with my fingers. I looked madder still, when I saw the red blood coated my lips, surrounded my eyes, and droplets of blood had created a splatter effect over my whole face. There was smeared blood all over my face, and the whole sight of my appearance had made me scream in horror.

Rugby had jumped, and looked pained. He quickly brought in and poured the cold water into the tub, and I threw my hands in, desperate to get the Doctor's blood off my arms.

Dr. Derby had awoken by this point, and looked up at me sleepily and mumbled,

"What?"

I looked up at him, and he caught sight of me. His eyes widened, and he screamed, delirious. I jumped in surprise, hurt. Rugby leapt forward and held down Dr. Derby as he pushed something into his mouth. Dr. Derby swallowed something, and relaxed.

"What did you give him?" I asked.

"Caladerpatent. It's too keep him calm."

I gasped in horror. "You drugged him?"

He looked up, shamefaced. "Yes, I gave it to him before the operation too. You looked so scared, like a little lamb, I wanted you to be okay. You looked like you were going to break, and I knew his screaming would haunt you."

I crawled over and looked the Doctor in the face. His eyes turned up to meet mine and focused on my face, before closing my eyes.

"He's conscious." I cried.

That meant that he would have been fully aware during his operation. Fully awake and he had understood what had been happening to him. Helpless to do anything against us.

I buried my face in my hands, and cried, hoping, wishing, _needing_ this day to finish.


	9. Chapter 9

Thank you all for the reviews!

Just two reviews and I was convinced to put in the Joker's perspective. To be honest, I was probably going to do it anyway :D Though I also think that I haven't done a good enough job with the Joker :(

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I was finished quickly washing myself, burying my head in the water and washed my hair. I dried it out as best as I could with my jacket, and made sure I looked presentable.

I crawled out of the tent. A few of the clowns were sitting around, lounging on saggy old couches, waiting for me.

"Dr. Addly, c'mon!" One them announced. "We're having a drink."

I smiled awkwardly, blushing. I was relieved that they had started to accept and enjoy my presence. I sat down beside them, on the floor, and accepted the bottle. I took a long, deep swig, and they laughed as I brushed it off and offered it to something else.

"Heh, you alright then, Doc?" A middle aged clown asked. His beard and moustache jiggled as he smiled and laughed.

"Yeah, thanks. Feeling a lot better now we that know one another." I joked. "Hi, Call me Charlotte."

We laughed together loudly, and talked throughout the afternoon. Somehow, time has gotten slower for me, and I hadn't realised that it had only been two days. It seemed as though I had been here for more than that. And yet I still hadn't seen as much of the Joker as I thought I would. To be told, I had honestly thought he would have just spent his time torturing me. Instead, I was being treated quite cordially, and the Joker, besides popping in to annoy me, had hardly paid any attention to me.

It was as though I wasn't really here.

(((((((

I watched her laugh and joke about with my men, barefoot as she lounged about on the floor, between the two couches where my boys sat. (_They're sitting straighter, and smelling a lot less like sweat and dirt!_). It was surprising to see her so relaxed in just her ripped (_and delightfully so!_) black skirt, and her white shirt with her sleeves pulled up to her elbows. She looked pretty, graceful, and I was jealous.

Someone must have said something, as she grabbed some of her hair and gesture to it. She laughed as she shook the curl of white, creamy hair.

I laughed as I realised she had washed out the blood that had created ferocious and fiery streaks through her hair. The blood around her face and arms had gone too. Her skin looked pink and smooth and _soft_.

I wanted to carve it. Every inch of her thighs, her arm, those _lips_.

I would claim her skin, owning it. I would make my mark, claim her for my own.

I had teased her, before the operation, when the good doctor had started screaming for her. (_Like how a baby calls for it's mother_). She had appeared from the once-a-tearoom-now-the-pretty-doctor's-boudoir and we had bantered. I hadn't really been paying attention to the conversation, (_banter like that I could do asleep_), teasing her as she walked past me. I just wanted to remind her that I was still around.

I was only waiting for her job to finish now so I could play with her. I wanted to tease her and torture her. She seemed unstable as we talked. When she was done, I would keep her. She might break one day, and I wanted to see it. I had begun to wonder how much she would bend (_break_), when she interrupted me as I was about to tell the story of how I got my scars.

I was tempted, there and then, and to slice her face open. I remember licking my lips as I stared at hers. She held so still, frozen as her lips trembled. I had reached out, and traced her lips with my knife, surprised by how soft and red they were.

That was it, the moment I had realised she would definitely break. She would be my little plaything.

She had gone into the tent, and I left, excited by the idea of breaking her and remaking her in my own image.

I came back at some later point and found her in the middle of a surgery. I hadn't even created a plan, and already she was breaking. I watched her smile widely as she held onto muscle, sawing through the leftover bone in the man's arm. How perfect of her to already begin!

Blood was somehow managed to swim up her arms and stain them, and some blood had been smudged on her cheeks, she must have been drying the tears that fell from her eyes.

I joined her. I commented about her sudden decision to operate, and she barked back at me, interrupting me once more. She wanted me to help her, and I sat there, impressed.

She wasn't exacting dealing with the stress of the surgery, but she felt brave enough to interrupt me again, knowing I could have very easily slashed her face wide open. I had handed her the saw, and stood only a few inches from her, peering over her shoulder as I mumbled something about the hand saw. She groaned, but it came out more as a laugh than I think she realised.

Se was still smiling, which surprised me. What surprised me further, was that she had opened checked me out as I tried threading the damn needle. The cheeky wench! She took the needle from me, and finished the operation soon after.

I had tried to suggest to her that she might have fun performing that little play for me, and she stared at me in horror as I sucked on my cocktail. There was a glint in her eyes, but otherwise, she said that she didn't have fun.

Then, after maybe 10 mins, I had returned to the tent area, where most of my men had suddenly moved the couches and the tables so they could be near her! Fucking men and their libidos, and their bloody hearts (_ha hah ha_). Rugby, the weakest of them all, had pulled up a tin tub from somewhere, as well as a mirror! He was falling for her, hard. I would deal with that later, but she had screamed suddenly, and Rugby, panicked, fell backwards into the tub, leaving the doors to the tent wide open, for me as to see her undressing.

Her breasts had been pouring out of her unbuttoned shirt, her skrt had been hiked up to her waist, showing plenty of plump skin, and her white hair had tumbled over her shoulders. She had looked so tempting, I was eager to break her even more.

I was about to enter the tent, when Rugby got up and closed the tent. I was about to smack him in the head when he started to mumble his apologies. He had said something back as well, and reached for his hand. Only it wasn't his hand. It was mine. I hadn't realised I was so close to the tent.

I had frozen at her touch. It was warm, and surprisingly pleasant. I relaxed, and embarrassed her by letting her know it was my hand. She pulled her hand away, and I felt insulted. I let her know also that I had seen her nearly naked, and she began to shriek in horror. I had laughed and walked away, thrilled to the bones as I realised what a perfect little specimen she made.


	10. Chapter 10

I might add one more chapter in before christmas, but it depends on how many reviews I get, really. ;)

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After the evening had settled, some of the clowns began to get ready for what I assumed to be a heist. They started by applying more greasepaint to their faces, sloppily and swiftly. I watched them, interested, and some of them started to hand me their paints.

"Do you wanna try it?" One of them, Liam, asked.

I looked at the tubs of paint in my hands, shocked. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Golden leaned over and grabbed my chin. "C'mon pet, just for a minute."

I carefully batted his hand away as we laughed. "I'm serious!"

"Exactly!" Liam exclaimed, jumping as some great realisation came to him. "You're _too_ serious! You need to loosen up, have a little fun!"

My mouth hung open as I stared at him. "I've just had to operate on a man for the first time in my life."

Some of the clowns tittered between them, but Liam pressed on, "And you need to unwind. C'mon Charlotte, didn't you ever play dress-up when you were a kid?"

I hadn't, actually. I was never really introduced to dressing up games, I just used to play with my teddies and toys, but I wasn't going to tell _them_ that. They'd just use it as an excuse to dress _me_ up!

"Sure," I lied. "Honestly, you're like little children."

"Will you do it?" Golden asked, leaning forward again.

"Do what?" Rugby asked, appearing behind me with a cautious look on his face.

"They want me to try some of their 'war paints'." I joked, leaning back a little and looking up at him.

"Oh, is that all." He said, a strange glint in his eyes. "Shame we don't have any clothes for you either, you'd look cute."

All of the guys laughed, except for Rugby, who awkwardly tried to apologise to me, which I brushed over lightly, laughing along with them. Suddenly, there was silence between everyone, and I looked around at their faces, trying to decipher their strangely excited looks.

Rugby grabbed me from behind, and held me still as some of the men leaped forward, and I screamed loudly, horrified at the thought of what they were going to do to me, when suddenly their fingers, dipped in the grease paints, smudged themselves across my face. I held still, a little freaked, until they began to pull away and admire the artwork they had created on my face.

I hadn't realised I was breathing so hard, a little frightened by the sudden attack, and I apparently didn't realise either that I was leaning against Rugby's chest.

Liam held up a mirror. "Here, have a look."

I did look, and was surprised by what I saw. The make-up was so heavily caked on me that I didn't realise it was truly me I was looking at. My eyes had been surrounded with black eye shadow, and it made my pale blue eyes pop. The white paint they had smeared around my forehead and cheeks made me look like I was blending into my hair, so I looked almost ghost-like, but the red paint that they had pressed against me to create a long jagged smile had started to drip down my face and create a splatter effect along my neck.

I was impressed. I began admiring myself in some morbid fashion as the clowns began to chatter amongst themselves.

"We'll have to get you some new clothes, I reckon." One of the older clown reckoned.

"-My girlfriend will have something that'll fit her!-"

"-Man, you're not dressing her up like your girlfriend!-"

"-But she'd be so cute! Dead sexy too.-"

"-We could do her hair up and everything!-"

"-What?"

"-Yeah! I like that idea!"

I suddenly realised what they were chatting about and stopped them.

"No, no, no, no! I'm okay with the face paints but not with the dressing up! I wouldn't mind it if you got me something to sleep in, and something to work in, but no silly costumes!"

"Awwww." They all chimed together.

"And stop that, you're not a panto crowd." I said, handing one of the men the mirror with a less-than-impressed look on my face.

I stood up, Rugby helping me up, and was about to walk back to the tent, when I suddenly heard,

"Hey now, uh, all dressed up and nowhere to go."

I turned around, embarrassed as the Joker stood a few steps away. He stood tall, leaning back. His hands were in his pockets, looking relaxed as I stood before him panicked. His eyes looked me up and down, and he smiled.

"Pretty little fille, eh?" He laughed, approaching us.

I chose to say nothing, and watched as his gaze drifted over to the men. His smile deepened, and his eyes darkened as the clowns shuffled nervously in their places.

"I bet you lot are having fun. And without me." He said darkly. "If I'd had known we were playing dress up, I'd have given you girls some more make-up."

"It's not their fault, they were just messing around." I mentioned.

His gazed drifted back to me, his head rolling about on his shoulders. I felt naked as his eyes drifted up and down my body.

"With _you_."

No-one said anything. We heard the accusation behind those two little words.

"Now, I know I did mention something about not touching her."

I awkwardly stood beside the men, who started to look at each other.

"Funny, could 'ave sworn I had mentioned it…no?" Here, he paused, and took a long, deep breath. "Well then I'm telling you now. No touching her. Give her one funny look, and I'll slice your skin off and use it as a rug."

He gave me one hard look, before continuing. "Now, you have your missions. I don't want to see your faces until you've finished them. There's gonna be a few surprises for you when you get back, understand?"

The men nodded and got back to getting themselves ready for whatever it was that what they going to do, when the Joker looked at me.

"Go wait for me in my office." He giggled, pointing at tearoom when the slept the night before. "You and me are gonna have some words."


	11. Chapter 11

Thank you for all of the reviews! It was really lovely of you all, and I am truly sorry that I didn't upload this chapter before christmas, I'll try to upload another one soon!

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I was waiting for the Joker as he spoke the men, so you can imagine how I was feeling. I was waiting for him the tearoom where I had slept last night, and I felt awkward. I was frightened out of my mind, the smell of damp and cleaner choking me as I sat huddled on the makeshift bed. I held my hands clamped together, feeling more and more ridiculous as the make-up that had been sloppily applied to my face beginning to drip down onto my neck and staining my shirt.

I looked out the window into the warehouse's open space, brushing a hand through my hair as I watched the clowns get a telling off from the Joker. A few of them looked over at me, and I sadly smiled to reassure them.

_I'm so stupid_. I thought. _I shouldn't be reassuring them, I should be trying to escape!_

Eventually, the Joker noticed, and looked around. I fully noticed him for the first time since I arrived. He had a tall, slender frame, quite feminine, with long arms, which often seemed to lose control and jerked impatiently. I wondered if he had some sort of muscle disorder, I remember coming across a case of full body Tourettes. The patient, a Hispanic boy, at random moments would lose control of his body and he would jerk about in his seat for a few seconds. It would almost look like he was dancing if he was standing up…

Looking at the Joker again, I started to take notice of his clothing. It was a weird fashion, I had to admit. He wore a silk shirt, with a hexagonal pattern. What made it stranger was that it changed colours as he moved. Over the shirt, he wore a green waistcoat that hugged his body pleasantly.

"Pleasantly?" I asked myself, bemused.

I hadn't realised that he was approaching the room. I sat up straighter as he entered, and he grinned.

"At ease." He quipped.

He took a few steps into the room, and stood facing me, contemplating something as he put his hands into his pockets and stood awkwardly.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" I asked nervously.

"I wanted an update on the good doctor." He said, his eyes narrowing in on me.

"He's okay for now. He's sleeping. He's been given some Caladerpatent, which should keep him calm. I doubt the stitches will come out if I just watch over him and make sure he doesn't move too much. I would appreciate it if your men could bring us both some food. We're both quite hungry. He'll need something like soup and bread."

The Joker watched me for a few seconds. I shifted in my seat awkwardly.

"I told you you'd enjoy it." He said randomly, sitting down.

"I'm sorry?" I asked, a little disturbed by his change of conversation.

"I told you-" Here, his head jerked a little, almost like a tic.

He groaned, grabbing his neck with his long spindly fingers and tried to ease the muscles there.

"Does it hurt?" I asked, standing up.

His eyes flicked back to me, and I walked over to him. I could see him tense as I approached, so I moved a little slower to keep him calm. We stood a few inches away from each other, and I felt hot as his eyes met my own. My breathing had suddenly gotten softer, and he noticed.

"I had a little incident with the Batman, and I fell." He purred.

I felt shivers run down my spine as I told him, "You're developing a tic. Usually, it's due to genetics, but I'm guessing you didn't have this before the fall. It must have been triggered. Did you parents have anything like this?"

His eyes narrowed. "I know you're a psychiatrist, but please control yourself."

I pouted. "I'm just asking."

Suddenly, a plan was forming in my head. I was wondering if it would work, but I would go for it anyway.

"If your parents didn't have a motor tics, then you need Alchemitron. If they did, you need Palatent."

"Write those down for me." He said.

I did as he told me, my clean handwriting smudged across the scrap of paper he handed me. He snatched the scrap of paper from my hands and stuffed it into a pocket. He began to ease his neck again, and I stood awkwardly beside him.

"May I have a look?" I asked, shyly. I reckoned that if I got into his favour, he wouldn't be tempted to kill me.

It was a stupid thought, but I was willing to try anything.

He looked at me, his eyes, surrounded by black eyeliner and smudged greasepaint, burrowed into my own, until he mumbled some form of 'yes'.

I slowly smoothed his greasy, green hair out of the way and peered down at the back of his neck. I gently began to prod the area, noting the muscles and how tight they were. The Joker had relaxed under my touch, and started to mumble to himself as he looked out of the tearoom.

"You're really tight." I told him.

"That's what _he_ said!" He cackled, rocking in his seat.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, well. You need to see a masseuse. That and the medicine I've prescribed should help you."

"Good girl." He said, relaxing once more, mumbling under his breath again.

I pulled myself away, ashamed of what I had just done, and asked,

"Is there anything else I can help you with?"

He looked over at the makeshift bed, his eyes filling with glee.

"Well, seeing as the boys have gone, we could use the bed." He said wickedly.

"What?" I asked, taking a few steps back.

"I'll lie down on it, and you can ease my neck." He said, grinning.

I heaved a sigh of relief. "You want me to massage you?"

He gave me a long dark stare. "Well, unless you can think of anything else you want to do on that bed."

I stared at him in horror and fumbled over my words, "I…I… You need a _proper_ masseuse."

"Yes, and can you give me the number of any good masseuses that accept me, of all people?" He cackled, rocking in his place as he sucked on his fingers.

"But I…"

"Oh goodie!" He said happily, standing up suddenly and stripping off his waistcoat and shirt.

I stared openly at his body, noting how his pants just lightly covered his crotch, how formed his abdomen was, and he posed for me.

"Lovely, en't I?" He said, pressing his hands against his body.

"Sorry." I mumbled, watching him lie down on the bed.

"C'mon then." He said, rolling onto his stomach. "Haven't got all day."

I stood there, watching him close his eyes and slow his breathing. I couldn't believe how trusting he was. What was the stop me from running. There was just me and him!

He moaned, adjusting himself, and from underneath him, he pulled out a knife.

"Digging into me…" He mumbled, opening one eye.

I knelt beside him, slowly, and stared at his neck. I slowly wrapped my fingers around his neck, and began to squeeze and rub, carefully. I felt him shiver beneath me, and I took a deep breath as I began to lean over him and get my hands fully in there.

He purred. Like a cat. And he rubbed his face against my pillow, smearing his damned greasepaint all over it. I would have to sleep on that, and he would probably be laughing at me behind my back!

I groaned under my breath, rolling my eyes, and carried on, sitting on the edge of the couch, pressing up against his hips as his neck muscles twitched and loosened under my fingers, and he, the damned fool, just carried on pushing his face into my pillow.

I heard him take a deep breath, and I stared at him as I realised he was sniffing my pillow!


	12. Chapter 12

Thank you for all of the reviews! I hope you all really enjoy this chapter! It's a surprise guest!

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So there I was, sitting beside a half naked Joker, rubbing at his neck as he sniffed my pillows. I had pinched him several times, hoping he'd stop, but it would just make him shudder, and his make-up would crumble away onto my pillow, and then I'd be stuck with a face smear of make-up. He seemed lost within his own little world, and for a few moments, I wondered if I could just sneak away from him and get back to the tent. Or better yet, leave the warehouse. Though that was very unlikely, due to the gun in his hands. I doubt I'd get a step near the door without him aiming that barrel between my eyes.

The smell of lime and melting greasepaint was starting to make my head spin. I was about to tell the Joker that I wanted to get back to the tent, when the worst possible situation happened.

I should probably tell you at this point, that I have a habit of attracting attention. And I had figured at that point that things could not get any worse. I should have realised that situations like this can _always_ get worse, no matter who you are or who you're with. I seem to be able to draw in bad news like flies to a honey, and it's always at the worse possible moment. Which is why I probably shouldn't have been so surprised when Harley Quinn walked into the room at the exact moment that I was massaging the Joker's neck.

She was impressive. Impressively _scary_, I should say. She had a stature that beamed 'badass', but in a feminine way. Her curves started and ended in the right places, and her scantily clad outfit complimented her figure, very much like whenever I saw her in news clips and police file photos of her. I remember seeing her prance about on the 6 o'clock news, like a dancer. The Joker had a habit of making and sending his own home made videos in to news stations, ranting about one thing or another, and more often than not, Harley Quinn would appear as his sidekick, though it was obvious that they were romantically linked as well. No-one quite knew where she had come from, but everyone had become nervous at the sight of her, because if the Joker could convert some random girl into his own little psychopath, then what else could he do? And everyone knew that he had converted _her_, and not any other way, as he held dominance over her that was apparent even in their videos. She was athletic, according to some; and there were those who believed she had once been a ballerina or a gymnastic, but no evidence had ever come to light. No-one seemed to recognise her either, which suggested to some that she wasn't local, but I wasn't sure. She seemed to know Gotham well enough, to me.

Oh yes, we psychiatrists do have fun analysing the villains of Gotham City.

Looking up at her now, I was able to admire her form as she stood over us, watching us back with her steady blue eyes. Her short blonde hair was hastily drawn up into pigtails, which surrounded her small, white painted face. Her eyes were surrounded by a black lace mask, and I could see the anger and disappointment in her eyes.

She stepped forward, brandishing a champagne bottle with blood smeared across the base.

"Puddin', what's this?" She said darkly, aiming the bottle at me.

I was staring into the bottle, stunned as her face contorted into a dark expression. I wasn't about the question her choice of words, after all. I glanced up at her face, and noted the black lace mask surrounding her eyes. I felt awkward for staring, but she seemed familiar. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew her.

She gripped the bottle tightly, and I thought in that moment, how happy I would have been very to slink out and hide in a shadowy corner, but her mouth opened and a sinister, low-pitched voice came tumbling out awkwardly.

"Answer me!" Her voice sounded strangled on that last note, her eyes captured on my hands and danced about to meet his face.

"I'm sorry…" I mumbled. "He…"

"Shut up! You little harlot!" She shrieked, her attention switching back to me.

"I thought you were still in Arkham." The Joker asked casually.

"What is she doing here?" She asked, pointing at me.

The Joker laughed, sitting up. I was still in shock in this moment, so as he sat up, with me still leaning against him, I fell to the floor, and said nothing as Harley's thighs came into my immediate view. I saw the champagne bottle fall to the floor and smash in front of my eyes. I looked up, and saw her guns aimed at me. I gasped and froze as she cocked her guns.

"Everything's a joke, huh, Mr. J?" She growled.

"She's a doctor." The Joker laughed darkly, batting her gun away from my face.

"She's a psychiatrist!" She shrieked again, her hands trembling.

"Yes, but… Wait, how do know that I'm a psychiatrist?" I asked, momentarily distracted.

"I know you quite well, _Charlotte_."

I wasn't sure whether or not I should have been pleased with that simple statement. She smiled darkly at me, looming over me as I shivered in her presence. Puzzlement crossed her face, and she bit her lip

"You don't remember me?" She asked, her voice surprisingly lilting and musical.

Her shaky laugh thrilled me as she leaned down, her hands on her hips, guns aimed lazily as she smirked.

"Well, I'm insulted. And here's me thinking that we got on real good last time we met."

I was able to detect some sort of Queens accent as she began to relax, and she winked at me as she stood straight again. Harley Quinn.

Harley Quinn. No, wait, it couldn't have been as obvious as _that_, could it?

"H-Harleen?" I asked, my voice trembling in surprise. "Harleen Quinzel?"

"Hole in one! Though you could have gotten there sooner." She said, wrinkling her nose.

Harleen Quinzel. Of all the people the Joker had to pick, he picked the one woman in all of Gotham who was psychological damaged, and somehow managed to treat people just like her! This woman was once a psychiatrist, just like myself, but the only difference between us was, that while I pampered to the rich and desperate, she had slaved away at Arkham Asylum, enjoying herself. I daresay she was the only psychiatrist there who turned up on time. No, wait, there was Dr. Crane, and as I do recall, he soon became a villain himself. Which just goes to show…

"Charlotte, you're tuning out…" Harley, _Harleen_, said.

"Harleen, what happened? You, you just disappeared one day. And then a week later, the Joker broke out! We all thought he had you … killed." I mumbled, confused and distraught.

"_I_ broke him out." She replied, smirking to herself as she emphasised the first word. "We fell in love, and we were like Romeo and Juliet, _true love_."

She cooed the last two words, and I stared at her in a mixture of horror and confusion. I looked around me, dazed as I realised that the once perky and happy-go-lucky girl I knew a year ago was now the psychopathic little tortureress before me.

"That last time I saw you…" I murmured to myself.

"No, not me. Not the real me. You never knew the real me." She replied. She pulled one gun up to aim at me. "And I guess I never knew the real you."

"Harleen…I'm not here willingly. The Joker kidnapped me. He wants me to bring this half-dead man back to life!"

Harley's face showed surprise, and she turned to look at the Joker.

"This true, puddin'?" She asked, clearly confused.

He shrugged, and both Harley and I pulled a face at his indirect answer. She glanced over at me, and frowned.

"And this?" She asked, gesturing to the Joker.

"He told me to massage him. After I suggested to him that he ought to see a masseuse. He's got this problem, you see…"

"He en't got no problem, Charlotte." She shrieked, "He's perfect. He sent his guys to come break me out tonight."

"I see." I said, awkwardly. "Harleen…"

"For how long will you be here?" She asked, a harsh tone in her voice.

"Harleen, please." I pleaded, her tone hurting me. We had once been associates, though not best friends. We had gotten along quit well whenever we saw one another, often comparing notes on our patients, but now…

"It doesn't matter. You'll be gone soon enough. Now, me and my Mr. J are gonna have a little chat. Run with your tail between your legs before I break them." She threatened.

I clambered to my feet and left the room as swiftly as I could. Their laughter cackling behind me, following me back to the tent, as I lay beside the groggy Dr. Derby, hugging my knees as I thought of Harleen … Harley … and I once being friends, but now enemies.


	13. Chapter 13

Thank you for all of the reviews! I hope you all really enjoy this chapter! I am sorry for not updating sooner, but I've been having money troubles, as well as computer troubles. But I wrote this up in about 45 minutes, and hope to get another chapter out soon!

* * *

For the next few hours, there was the occasional screaming, laughter and moans that seeped through the cracks of that room that had once been mine. I was happy to give it up if it meant that I wouldn't have to be near the Joker, or the woman that we both now shared. I was now resting comfortably in the tent, sitting beside Dr Derby, changing his wet towels, checking on him every so often, glad to be alone to gather my thoughts.

It felt like as though so much had happened recently in such a small amount of time. I was beginning to lose track of time, and I was scared that I was losing my grip on reality. I could understand why many people feared him at the Asylum. I hadn't quite understood before, the trembling hands, the sweaty skin and the mumbling words that often came when many of my colleagues spoke of him. It was not only that he was magnificent at wielding knifes and creating havoc, he was also well acquainted with the human mind and knew how the bend and shape it to his will. He really was a powerful man. One who seemed to delight in tormenting me.

I brushed my fingers through my hair, and tried to banish thoughts of the Joker from my mind. It wouldn't do me any good to keep myself focused on him.

My thought wandered, and I thought of the medicine had prescribed for him. Alchemitron and Palatent were two drugs that had been recently removed from the recommended list of medicines. They were both a muscle relaxant with the added bonus of being an anti-depressant. They had been used quite frequently at Arkham, one of them having been recommended to Harleen while I had been in her presence. They weren't well known drugs either, meaning that if someone asked for them, then a red flag would come up. If the Joker went looking for them, then he'd draw himself alot of attention, and there was the possibility that someone would figure out that I had told him about them. Either that, or they'd figure that Harley was somehow connected.

It was a lame idea, but one that I hoped would work.

I heard a bottle smash, and Harley screamed with laughter, and I winced, blocking any mental pictures of their idea of rough sex was. I definitely was sure that I did not want to know.

Dr. Derby stirred beside me, and I looked down, brushing hair out of his face. His eyes fluttered open, and he stared up at me lazily.

"Hello Doc." I murmured, smiling. "How are you feeling?"

"Dr. Addly…" Tears gathered in his eyes.

"I know, I know." I said, leaning down to hug him.

"My arm. Gone. What has he done to me? I'm useless."

"No, you still have your mind. Think of all the things you can do with your mind alone! I'll support you as best I can, but you can't give up on me, okay?"

He nodded, and I pulled away. We shared a silent look, one of sadness, and of grief. I began to wonder if our lives would ever be the same again after this, but secretly, I knew it would not be. We were damaged goods now.

I thought of my grandma's pretty vase, which stood in the entrance hall of her cottage. It was a pale pink, with white cherry blossoms dancing around its rim, and up one side of it. There were a few cracks along it, each pasty line telling a story of its own history. It was a fractured, tortured little thing, sitting in sunlight, growing a little paler each day. I felt like that vase. I was the tormented, splintered little vase that everyone tossed around.

"How are you holding up, Nurse?" Dr. Derby muttered, blinking as he tried to get his eyes to focus on me.

"It's not good Doc," I admitted. "I fear things have taken a turn for the worse with the arrival of one of Arkham's latest escapees."

Dr. Derby's face grimaced. "I see. And who do we have the pleasure of sharing our company with?"

I sniffled. "Harley Quinn."

He shook his head. "Oh my. Not good, no, not at all."

I placed my hand on his shoulder. "I have a plan though, Doctor."

He looked up, interested. "Tell me, Quick, before I need sleep again."

"I convinced the Joker, _hopefully_, to seek some medicine. If he tries to find it, then we may have the chance of being found. The Batman _may_ even come looking for us - imagine _that_!"

He didn't look too impressed. I wasn't surprised. It was a lot to pin one's hopes on. But I needed something from Dr. Derby.

"We still don't know what they have planned for us." I whispered, leaning in. "So we need to draw this out as long as we can until we find out what the Joker is planning. Then, maybe the Batman will have found us by then."

"Do you really think so?" He asked doubtfully.

"Absolutely! We've got to have faith, Doctor. I need you to sleep for as long as you can, don't make a sound and try not to move too much. You stitches are quite sensitive, I suppose, but you should be fine. Rugby managed to shove some pills down your throat, that kept you still and sleepy, I'll see if I can get some for you to sleep this though. Hopefully, you'll be able to sleep right through all of this until someone comes for us. I'll handle things from here, okay?"

"Are you sure? Will this even work?" He asked, daring to hope.

I couldn't say no to him. "Of course Doctor. Just leave things to me. But I need all the information I can get. What was the purposes of your experiments? What did the Joker want from you?"

"The experiments in the 70's were for the army. My team and I wanted to create non-lethal weapons that could be used against the enemy, and if needs be, against our own people. It was Godless work, I admit it, but we were young and wanted to conquer the world. We created different poisons, ones to infiltrate the victim's mind and encourage them to turn on each other, or ones that would make the victim choose not to kill, or shoot. We experiment on animals, at first, then moved up to cows. We were able to create those ones, though it was difficult."

"What would the Joker want with non-lethal gases? That doesn't sound like him." I mused, leaning back.

"It wasn't those he was interested in." Dr. Derby answered, looking distant and far-away. "He wanted 'P103', by that time, still an experimental drug. It was created by accident, but we were looking for the cause and possible uses for it."

"What did it do?" I asked slowly.

"As far as we could tell, it would just kill them. It was a hellish mixture of Hydrogen Cyanide and Strychnodide. The toxins would cause the heart to immediately stop, dead in its tracks, and brain functions would cease. It was an immediate killer, less than 10 seconds. As a side effect, the victim's facial muscles would contract, creating a morbid grin."

I stared at him, horrified. "Why would you choose to continue this? Why would you allow the Joker to fund your research?"

"He wanted us to find an antidote. It seemly highly unlikely, but we found one. Of course, it has to be injected beforehand, but it works. Not well, but enough to keep you alive. We believed we were doing good work. We had created a monster in our youths, but now, we had a chance to fix the crimes we had committed. We would give the antidote out to everyone; heal them before they would get hurt. But then I found out the real purpose of the antidote."

He paused, needing to take a few breaths. He had been getting excited, and I had placed a hand on him to ease his nerves. He started again, mournfully describing the moment he had confronted the Joker.

"He told me that we would be rich, though he didn't seem too interested himself. He said he like the idea of going out with a smile on his face. He wanted to sell the antidote to the rich, make them barter for it. He said he wondered if whole countries would go to war over it. He'll release the gas in one year, he said. When the whole things started to settle down a little, he said."

"Oh Doctor. What have you done?" I asked.

It did not matter now. None of it did. Even if we did escape, we would never truly be free now. What would do to escape such tortures from a man who liked to smell pillows? It seemed hopeless. Utterly hopeless.


	14. Chapter 14

Thank you for all of the reviews! I hope you all really enjoy this chapter! I am sorry for not updating sooner, I hope to get another chapter out soon!

* * *

Time had originally seemed so slow before, I couldn't tell how much time had passed at that point. I could have been there for days, or weeks. I suppose that's why the next couple of hours seemed so rushed and hasty.

It must have been aroundmidnightby the time I had managed to settle the doctor. I hadn't been able to contrive a proper plan by then, but I knew that I would have to work on it. I also hadn't managed to retrieve any more information out of him, apart from the fact that the antidote was not completed, but one sentence rang through my head.

_He'll release the gas in one year._

The Joker was going to somehow release a morbid, heart stopping gas intoGotham, if not the whole world. Though why he wanted to kill so many people was beyond me. I wondered if it was some complex, or just his hostile attitude.

Days were beginning to pass. Dr. Derby was doing well in staying asleep, though it could hardly be called acting, he did look like he need the sleep, poor thing. I did my best to help him, though I grew lonely without him. Since Harley's appearance, most of the clowns had begun to avoid me. She had taken to disrespecting me in front of them, or punishing those who spoke to me.

It had started the morning after her arrival. I had awoken, feeling refreshed, though for some reason, a little … _fuzzy_… in the head. I had clambered out of the tent, stretching my limbs carefully as I had slept in an awkward position. I yawned as I crawled forward, and accidentally bumped my head into Harley's knees.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I-" I looked up into her disapproving face.

"You said you were here to cure someone. They could have picked someone better, don't you think?" She asked, her steel eyes burrowing into mine.

"I think I've done a pretty good job. The Joker was right beside me and helped me. We made a pretty good team." I said, lowering my smile and smiling, knowing the kind of reaction I would get from her.

She grabbed my hair and pulled my head up to force me to look at her. I screamed in shock and reached for my scalp, which burned from her venomous grip.

"Shut the fuck up, you little princess." She growled.

She leant down, lowering her face so that it was level with my own. I could see the clowns in the background standing behind her, straight faced and emotionless. I could see that no-one was going to say a word. I could feel my body tremble from shock as she curled her fingers tighter around my hair.

"Now listen. You're going to do your job, and then you're _gone_. I don't care how you leave, whether it's on your feet or in a body bag, but either way, you're out of here. I don't want to see your face, and I don't want to hear a word from you either. If you approach me or the Joker, there had better be a bloody good reason why."

She shoved my head down to the floor, forcing my face against the concrete floor. She pressed the whole of her weight against the back of my skull. I cried aloud, my hands pressed against the floor, my attention solely focused on the pain in my head. She laughed aloud at the sound of my crying, and lifted my head. I felt dizzy as she swung my head up, and I could hardly focus on the words she spoke next.

"If I see you even glancing at anyone around here, then I'm going to gut you like the fishes out in the dock. Do you understand?"

"Harleen, _please_…" I moaned, my voice sounding oddly distant.

She shoved my head back onto the floor. "Say that name one more time. Go on. I _dare_ you."

She released my head and began to walk away, leaving me gasping for breathe on the floor, crying as my trembling hand reached for my face, my blurry eyesight trying to focus. I pulled my hand away from my face, and though my eyes were still unfocused, I could see the crimson droplets that littered my fingers.

I had retreated into the tent like a wounded animal, sobbing as I buried my fists into my mouth, desperate to hide my cries from Dr. Derby. I grabbed the blanket that covered him, and pulled a portion towards my face, covering my face as I lay on the floor, shock numbing me until I feel into an uneasy rest.

I woke an hour later, and after composing myself, I peeked out of the tent carefully, to find that two clowns had been positioned out of the tent.

One of them glanced down at me from the corner of his eye and hushed me as I was about to speak.

"It'd be better for all of us if we didn't act so friendly to one another. You'd better get back in there, or we'll be in trouble." He whispered after looking around him.

I nodded meekly, and backed up into the tent. I spent the rest of the day lying beside Dr. Derby, staring into the tent walls, with nothing to console my bored mind. I was restless, shifting and fidgeting in my place, wishing that Dr. Derby would wake up, even if we could never speak (as the Clowns outside the tent would hear us). I was lonely, and cried often, my mind repeating the events of the last week or so. I thought of the world outside of this warehouse, and thought of the people who I missed. I thought of my parents. My mother's troubled face. My father's disappointed and hurt expression at the thought of my disappearance. I thought of my brothers searchingGothamfor me.

Thinking of them made me feel worse. I had no way to telling them where I was, or how I was doing. They would be worried sick for me, and it hurt me to think of them in pain. I began to distract myself by going through my pockets and occupying myself with the trivial items held there. I made simple origami with the notepad paper, and drew flowers and eyes with the ballpoint pen I had. I began to play with the random coins in my pockets, spinning them and seeing which side they landed on. I did anything I could to occupy myself, just to pass the time, when I got to wondering. I thought about the Joker and his plan. I thought about the people ofGotham. I thought about my family trying to find me. I thought about Dr. Derby and his research. My time was not wasted, though it certainly seemed that way. I decided what to do. And so I waited. For someone, anyone to rescue us.

And it happened. It truly happened. Even to this day, I cannot believe the pure luck we had in that small, dingy little tent. And even now, I still cannot believe that I turned him away. A few days after Harley Quinn stomped back into my life, he came. Batman appeared. The actual, freaking _Batman_ came for us, though I really don't believe that he came specifically for us (more likely he was looking for the Joker and found us by accident).

I must have fallen asleep at some point, as I remember sitting up groggily and rubbing my eyes, having been startled by shuffling noises and voices. I brushed my hair from my eyes and peaked out of the tent, but I never saw a thing. It must have been aroundmidnight, but I still expected to see at least ten or so clowns lingering around. There was a lamp nearby, illuminating a small area of the warehouse, and my eyes drifted over to it. My eyes focused on the small lamp, and in the corner of my eyes, something shifted in the shadows.

I gave a small yelp and jumped back into the tent. I pushed myself to the back of the tent and knelt beside Dr. Derby, who remained asleep. I picked up the mirror thatRugbyhad given me, and held it up to defend myself. If it was Harley Quinn, then this time, I would be prepared.

He entered the tent quickly, closing the flaps of the cream material behind him, his eyes trained on me. I knelt a metre away from him, gawping at him as he looked around the tent, kneeling as he assessed the situation.

"Oh…Oh…" I whispered, placing the mirror on the ground. "You must have gotten the hint…"

"What hint?" He asked, confused.

I paused, wondering what had happened. I told him my plan of getting the Joker to try and find that medicine, only to raise a red flag to get the Batman's attention. But he shrugged.

"I've been here a few days, since Harley Quinn escaped from Arkham, I followed her to find the Joker. I was going to capture them tonight, as most of the thugs are away completing a mission for the Joker. I distracted the few that remained so that I could capture the Joker, but I saw you poking your head out. I never even knew you were here."

"Oh…" I said, feeling a little deflated.

"Who are you?" He asked gruffly.

"We've met. I helped you with the Pamela Isley case a few years ago. I'm Dr Charlotte Addly."

His eyes drifted down to Dr. Derby. I couldn't help but stare at his armour, his face, his overall costume. I frowned inwardly. I had never met him in person, only ever working with him through his PDA, but I had seen the blurred photos of him taken hastily on mobile phones, but seeing him in person now, was quite disappointing. He had seemed like such a hero, a supernatural force thatGothamworshipped. This was rather like meeting a celebrity and finding out they are just as human as you are. You expect them to have a better life, live differently from the way you do, but you discover that they like long lie-ins on Sunday mornings and warm doughnuts just like you. It was all quite unsatisfactory.

"Is that the missing Doctor?" He asked curtly.

"His name is Doctor Derby. He's seriously injured." I remembered the reason why the Doctor was here.

"Batman, there's something you need to know. The Joker, he has a gas that could potentially kill the people ofGotham, if not a good percentage of the earth. You need to stop him and find the gas before he releases it. Dr. Derby was here to create the antidote to the gas, but it's incomplete. The Joker, he says, is supposed to release the Gas in one year, though when that started, I have no idea."

Batman (_Batman_! Gosh!) nodded and peered over his shoulder to look outside.

"You let me worry about that, I need to get you two out of here. The thugs should be coming back any minute. If we're going to get out of here, it has to be now."

"I can't leave." I mumbled, feeling awkward for wanting to go up against the Batman's decision.

Honestly. Have you ever heard of someone saying no to Batman's plan?

His eyes locked onto mine, and a strange glint in his eyes appeared.

"What do you mean?"

"You take Dr. Derby and get him some help, he needs some medical attention. I'm going to what information I can get on this gas. We might as well work together once more." I told him.

"I can't allow that."

"Right, and since when have you ever go by the rules?" I said, smirking, but it soon left my face.

"This is an exception. I can't let you come into any danger."

"I've got to do this. Just give me 20 mins. I'll see what I can do. If I think that I can't do anything without raising attention or getting in harm's way then I'll meet you back here. If I'm not back in 20 minutes, come get me. I might be able to get more information from the Joker than you can. Please, at least let me try."

He sighed, rubbing his chin. "This is the wrong time to try, Doctor. Of all the times you had to pick to pull and pull a stunt like this."

"Will you let me do this?" I asked, leaning forward.

He nodded. "Very well. The Joker and Harley should be in the upstairs office. We're not sure what they're doing, but you might be able to do something that I can't. Just be careful, and don't do anything stupid."

Oh boy, of all the things he had to say…


	15. Chapter 15

Thank you for all of the reviews! I hope you all really enjoy this chapter! I am sorry for not updating sooner, I hope to get another chapter out soon!

* * *

Stealth is not one of my talents, and as I've mentioned before, I attract bad attention like trash attracts flies. So as I casually walked out of the tent, hands shivering from nerves and stress, I was expecting the Joker to kill me within seconds of approaching the tearoom he and Harley occupied now. I looked up at the tearoom with apprehension, biting my lip as I tied my hair up into a tighter pony tail. I needed clear vision for what I was going to do. I strode forward, ready to start, when I felt something small and round thrust into my hands. I looked down to see three small pellets.

I turned around to look at Batman, to find him staring deep into my eyes, searching for some truth in me. I wondered what he wanted to find when his eyes darkened and released the tips of my fingers from his touch.

"Gas pellets. Burst them between your fingers as smoke will cloud your movements if you need to escape. One should be enough, but I'm worried for you."

It was oddly human of him to be concerned. Not to sure that I thought of him as alien, but he had always seemed so unconcerned about feelings. He seemed devoid of human traits, almost robotic. But I saw the human inside, and the worry in his eyes made me stumble.

"I'll be fine."

I was lying. I was lying to Batman, of all people. I knew I wasn't going to be fine. It was the Joker after all; he would kill me without a single regret. Well, maybe he would regret killing me without thought; he'd want to torture me a little first.

He sensed my hesitation and shook his head.

"No, I shouldn't let you do this. I'm coming with you. Let me place Dr. Derby in a safe place and I'll come with you. Wait here."

"But I…"

"No, _wait here_."

"You can't just …"

"Yes I can. I'm overruling you, Doctor."

I pouted as he began to drag Dr. Derby out of the tent. I growled as I waited a few minutes, irritated with his candour, before I decided to leave the tent. I was tired of men underestimating me. I would show both him and the Joker that I could handle myself.

I approached the tearoom slowly, after making sure the coast was clear. My bare feet pressed carefully against the cold steel steps that led up to the door that meant my possible death. A sudden chill grabbed me, and I realised how stupid I was being. I wasn't sure what I was going to do. Talk it out of him?

I approached the door, crouching so they wouldn't see me through the window. I gradually raised my head so I could peek in undetected, but I couldn't see them. I lowered my head, panicking as I pressed a hand to my breast. Where were they? Could they have seen the Batman and left?

I fingered the smoke pellets cautiously, looking around me. I couldn't see anyone, and there was no looming shadows over me. I looked back in the room, but there was still no-one in sight. I moved away, and saw Batman drop beside me in the corner of my eye. I looked at him, shrugging.

"You can't just walk up the stairs, huh?"

He said nothing, pressing himself against the wall of the tearoom.

"They're not there. Should we go in?"

"You go first, I shall cover you in case of an ambush."

"'Ladies first' would have been nicer to say." I mumbled, opening the door and peeking in.

I crawled in, heading for the table which held a lot of shuffled papers and folders, and the odd knife and mug. I stood up as I began to rifle through the papers as Batman stood back to back with me. My eyes glazed over the scribbling of a madman, until something caught my eye.

It was a map, with crosses all over it.

"Look at this." I mumbled. "It's a map of the ,Paris,Tokyoare all marked. Every country's capital marked too."

Batman looked at the map, confident. "Locations to release the gas. See if you can find anything else more exact."

I nodded, rolling up the map and sticking it in the back of my jeans. I scrabbled through the papers, picking up one or two and reading them.

"There's nothing else, just scribbles. I can't make much sense of it."

Batman nodded. "Very well. It seems we have the advantage." He looked up into my eyes.

"We should leave before he returns." I told him, stuffing as much paper as I could hide on my person.

He discreetly turned away, allowing me to stuff more papers into my bra. I frowned.

"You could take a few papers yourself."

"Better not. You're going to go straight to the police with this information and with Doctor Derby, and you're going to leave handling the Joker to me."

"Are you sure? I mean, won't you need back-up?" I asked, adjusting my shirt.

He turned back to face me. His masked face remained immobile. "You need to do this for me. No arguing. The Joker may have already put the bombs in place, and we need him. Now go. _Now_."

I nodded curtly. "Fine. I'll see you at the station."

I jogged out of the tearoom and pedalled my feet down the stairs, fingering the smoke pellets and keeping a sharp look-out on my surroundings. I padded over to the tent, my bare feet making soft thumping sounds as I approached it.

I slowed down. The tent flaps that made the door were moving. Out emergeRugby, looking distraught, until he saw my face.

"Charlotte."

He stood in front of the tent, panting heavily, staring intently at me, his hands fidgeting. I fingered the pellets once more, and wondered if I would have to use them against him. I genuinely didn't want to. But I would if I had to.


	16. Chapter 16

Thank you for all of the reviews! I hope you all really enjoy this chapter! I am sorry for not updating sooner, I hope to get another chapter out soon!

* * *

Rugbystared at me intently, and I flinched as he stepped forward. He noticed this, and paused, looking dishevelled and annoyed. I fumbled with the pellets between my fingers, staring back at him, confused and hesitant. There was something in his eyes I didn't like. He seemed a lot darker and more dangerous now. Was it because I was seconds away from freedom? Was it because I would have go throughRugby, my one ally in this horror show, even if it meant hurting him? I felt unsure, and unequipped for such a moment. I wasn't sure how to handle it, and even if I could go back in time to correct my lack of confidence and indecisiveness, I still would not know what to do.

"I had wondered what had happened to you." He murmured, interrupting my train of thought. "The Joker had put you in my care when he left earlier. I was about to come give you something to eat, but I can see you're in the middle of escaping."

His eyes drifted up to the tearoom, and his body tensed as he saw what must have been the figure of Batman. His eyes narrowed as he glanced back at me. I withered beneath his sour glare. I knew then that something had changed in him.

"Rugby, please, don't get in my way. I like you, but I will not pause to hurt you if I have to." I said, faking my confidence.

"Charlie." He said sadly.

"I'm sorry?"

"My real name, it's Charlie Manford. I wanted you to know. I won't stop you, Charlotte. I want you to get away. You didn't deserve this at all. I just hope you won't think too badly of me." He said this with sorrow as he looked away.

"Why would I, Charlie?" I mumbled the name unfamiliar on my lips as I considered his actions towards me.

"Because I can't let the Batman get away with this." He said, sternly, meeting my eyes again. "He's going to ruin everything for us."

I gaped at him open mouthed. "Charlie, I can't believe you're saying this. Don't you know what the Joker is planning to do toGotham? To the world? He wants to poison every capital on earth, and who knows after that! Please Charlie, come with me, we can stop him, and the police will understand and protect you if you just explain to them-"

"The Police? Please,Charlotte, they won't be able to protect me from the Joker if I go against him. He'll get me no matter where I am. And yes, I know his plans. But I'm more concerned about the , I could look after everyone who matters to me after this. I could go to collage and get a proper education, and I could get myself a good job somewhere-"

"-There won't be any Colleges to go to after this!" I argued, my cheeks feeling flushed as I worked myself up. "No jobs either! The Joker is going to destroy everything!"

"No, not everything. He only wants to destroy those who are a threat to him. Some are thrown in just for fun. He wants to topple society and watch it crumble. It's all part of the plan. Charlotte, I'm sorry, but if you could only understand." Here, he paused. "I could look after you too. If you wanted me to."

"Charlie, no … stop this! This isn't you at all! You don't want the world to end like this, do you?"

"It doesn't matter anymore." He muttered, sounding hurt, He began to step around me to join Batman in the tearoom. "You had better leave girl, before the Joker returns, or I won't be able to help you. I'm stopping the Batman from ruining my future."

I trembled as he began to walk away from me. "I won't let you."

"There's nothing you can do."

I began to shiver harder. I knew the words that were about to come out of my lips, but I couldn't stop them. I needed Batman to be ready for the Joker, and not have to worry about Charlie. I reached into the back of my pants, and pulled out the map.

"I have all of the plans,Rugby." I held them up so he could see. "Here's the map."

He paused, and looked over his broad shoulders. His eyes spotted the rolled up map in my hands. He turned around to face me, frowning. I took in the sight of his whole figure, and I realised that I had never taken in the whole sight ofRugbybefore. He looked a lot larger than he did before and a lot more dangerous too. I was trembling still.

"Don't do this,Rugby." I told him, my voice faltering. "Please, let's just leave here. We can go to the police, give them all of the details, and let them and Batman handle this. We can let them fight this out."

He stepped forward and reached out with his hand. "Charlotte, I'm only going to ask you once for them. After that, I'll take them with force."

I would have to run if he decided to take the notes by force. I would run as fast as I could, and hope for the best. I was beside a dock, so I could always throw myself into the water and hide, but then the notes would be destroyed. But there was always the point that I could just throw the notes into the water, and without an antidote, the Joker would have to give up. Either that, or kill anyone anyway.

Either way, I knew thatRugbywould kill me if I got in the way of his mixed up plans.

I sighed as I began to stare Rugbydown. I never would have thought that I would have to contemplate such serious issues. Who ever thinks that _they_ are the one to 'potentially' save thousands of people, at the risk of their own? I knew I was in danger. I knew I would be at the nonexistent mercy of the Joker if all went wrong. But wouldn't someone be in danger, no matter what the outcome?

And all because of a mistake. The clowns mistake of picking me. How funny that such a stupid mistake would be the downfall of the Joker's plan. Hopefully.

Rugbyand I stood staring at each other, locked at our stances with determination and betrayal displayed across our faces. I decided to mentally take a step back and look at my situation properly.

Maybe I was going overboard on this. Maybe everything was just getting out of proportions. Maybe I wouldn't even have to do anything. Maybe he's give up and let me go. Maybe I'd die a martyr for a cause that was already lost. That was an awful lot of maybes though. I bet the Batman didn't have as many maybes when he set out each night. He did his duty, whether he knew he would get results or not. He believed in his goal, and his mission, and never faltered, even at the expense of his life. I would not either. I would work through this until the end, no matter what the results were.

I would do my best to stop theRugby, and to a lesser extent, the Joker.

"You don't have to ask,Rugby. You know my answer." I told him, certain of my decision.

He sighed, and shook his head. "I was really hoping you'd reconsider, but I guess not, huh? Fine, let's do this the hard way." He replied, stepping forward.

"Hold it." I said, holding up one hand.

He paused, confusion flickering across his face, until his saw what I was holding between two fingers. It was a gas pellet that Batman had given me. I use one to get away, and save the other two for later. His eyes widened, and was about to leap forward, when I burst the pellet in front of him. I turned and fled, unsure of my destination, but certain of my stamina.

"Here we go." I murmured.


	17. Chapter 17

Thank you for all of the reviews! I hope you all really enjoy this chapter! I am sorry for not updating sooner, I hope to get another chapter out soon!

* * *

I wish at this point I could tell you of the witty thoughts rushing through my head as I ran through the warehouse towards any direction, but while some are naturally born poets, I'm afraid that the only concern in my mind was:

"RUN."

I had two pellets left, which I had realised subconsciously, and my stamina was still quite strong, having spent hardly any energy while being confined there. So there were two things in my favour, but there was a lot against me. First of me, I had no idea where the exits were, then of course, even if I did manage to escape, then I still had no idea what was outside of the warehouse, apart from docks. A map would have been handy, but where would I have gotten that from? Then, of course, there was the matter of Doctor Derby. Batman had placed him somewhere outside, and I couldn't stop and search for him, not whenRugbywould be chasing me when he got himself also stronger, probably faster, and would not hesitate to stop me.

So there was a very good chance that I wouldn't be able to get far, then.

I didn't dare look behind me, my legs were trembling enough to make me run unsteadily, so craning my neck around would have been the pebble in my shoe. There was also the fact that I didn't want to see the hurt and rejection in his eyes.

But trying to run and think about my guilt and worry wasn't a good idea, as I suddenly found myself running into a collection of boxes. I realised they were the same boxes as I had mentioned before, the ones labelled in Russian. I looked coughing and wheezing, staggering forward, doubling over as he roared. I looked back at the boxes, panting heavily as I saw one item that would raise the stakes a little.

I picked up the crowbar, and held it firmly in my hand, and after spying an escape, I braced myself for the sudden energy I would require to escape the docks. I slammed myself into the escape doors and stumbled out onto the wooden walkways, stunned by the sudden sunlight. I shielded my eyes in wonder, and glanced around me.

To my left were more warehouses which lay still and silent. In front of me were the surrounding waters that made up the Gotham City Docks, and to my right was an expanse of empty space.

An expanse of empty space, apart from the Batmobile. For a split second, I had wondered what genius in the media dubbed Batman's … _thing_ … that god awful name. I hesitated to call it a car, as it more like a tank than a car. It looked like something you would use to make tunnels in a mountain or something.

But wouldn't that make it the safest place to be right now? I decided not to argue against that logic, with the added bonus of the thought that Batman had some sort of set-up inside the thing which gave him a direct line to the Police. I sped off towards it, jogging as I tried to regain my breath, and approached the tank-car.

I spent a few seconds looking at it, when I realised, I had no idea how to get into the damn thing. I climbed up onto the side, but the thing was like a rubix cube. There were so many things sprouting off the sides and back that it made it impossible for me to interpret it. I wondered if you have to jump in the top like so many rumours had been spread around, or whether it was gull-wing doors.

There wasn't time to think about it, as Rugbyhad come bursting through the same exit as I had, and saw him, his eyes full of hatred. I yelped, and ran around the tank-car, hoping to hide behind it for protection, but in hindsight, that tactic would have been more useful _before_ he saw me.

Terrified, I began to climb onto the Batmobile, wielding my crowbar. I began to cry, realising that I should have hidden, I should have run, I should have done anything except stand around a dumb looking car wondering how to get inside it.

"Give me the papers, and I won't hurt you, Charlotte."Rugbywarned me, growling deep in his throat.

"No,Rugby. I won't. You'll have to take them from me." I sobbed, shivering.

I saw the restraint and pity in his eyes as he slowly climbed up the other side of the Batmobile, his eyes trained on me. I held out the crowbar, aimed towards him, my arms shaking all over.

I was wrong; I couldn't stand up to him. I never had a chance to defend myself against him. He was beginning to loom over me, and I lost my confidence to smackRugbyupside the head with the crowbar. I lamely brought my crowbar back to swing it at him, but he managed to grab it as I brought it back around. For a split second, he looked away. He threw away the crowbar, and for one instance, his focus was not on me. In that single moment, my mind flashed back to the two small favours that I had waiting for their chance to shine, between my fingertips.

It all happened to quickly, but to this day; I can still see everything as if it had all been slowed down. He looked away, his focus on the crowbar and getting it away from him, and I raised my hand up, squeezing the gas pellets between my fingertips, and as he turned back to say something, I jammed the pellets into his mouth, past his tongue and shoved them down into his throat, before using my other hand to swoop up and catch his jaw with my palm, forcing his teeth to shatter against themselves as I removed my hand from his mouth. I have looked back on it now, and I wish I hadn't had done that. So many things could have gone wrong, but I am still grateful for Batman's wisdom to give me more than one pellet. And as to how I managed to get the pellets so far in, well, I have nothing to say for it. Maybe he was shocked and couldn't say a word as he was too stunned, maybe he dropped his defences, but I still don't know how I managed to get away with it.

He stood still, unsteady as his eyes flickered with uncertainty. Smoke began to seep through his teeth and out past his lips, and streams of gas appeared to emerge from his nostrils. His chest jerked unhappily as he clutched at it. He began to jerk awkwardly, and I watched, horrified, as he stumbled back a step, and fell from the car, onto the pavement. I heard the dull crack of his skull splitting, and I stood in silence, shocked as I looked down at the halo of blood surrounding his golden locks. He twitched for a few seconds, but I could not bear it any longer, and I looked away.

Chills went through my spine, as the next few words were whispered,

"I'm going to kill you…"

Our eyes locked, and I knew, there would be no distractions, no hesitation, and no regret. I had lost my one chance to save him, though I had not truly tried.

"I'm sorry, Charlie." I said regretfully, as he staggered to his feet.

I was about to run, when the Batmobile began to open up. My eyes widened as I saw Dr. Derby sitting in the front seat, looking up at me, his hand pressed against some button. He was wrapped up in some safety blanket, looking alert, but drugged, grinning sheepishly as he jerked his head towards the seat beside him.

"Need a lift?"


	18. Chapter 18

Thank you for all of the reviews!

* * *

I squealed with happiness at the sight of Dr. Derby, and jumped in beside in anger as he banged his fists against the Batmobile, and I buried myself in the driver's seat as I watched in horror. I was close to tears, and Dr. Derby sensed this, resting his hand on my own.

"Don't worry, Batman will come get us soon." Dr. Derby muttered, trying not to make eye contact.

I shook my head, watching asRugbychoked on the fumes seeping from his nostrils. I winced at the sight of my friend suffering like this. My guilt and shame came crashing down on me, like hundreds of dodge balls colliding into my ribs and bruising me. I knew I had killed him. It would only be a matter of minutes before the light left his eyes. It tormented me, and I sobbed weakly.

"I'm not worried about that, I'm worried forRugby." I muttered, drawing my eyes away fromRugby's tortured face. I didn't want to remember his real name. "How could I do such a thing to him?"

He looked confused, and horrified. "I know it must have been so scary for you, but it was him or you." He assured me.

"I can't look." I moaned, burying my face in my hands.

All I could hear wasRugby's moan soon turn into wails as he realised his fate. My body shook uncontrollably as I heard the betrayal and heartbreak in his voice. I wondered what Dr. Derby thought of me, would he think me brave or weak? Stupid and reckless, or uncontrollable and quick? I didn't want to think of how he must have thought of me.

After a few seconds, Dr. Derby sighed. "He's collapsed now, Dr Addley."

I opened my eyes and peeked out from between my fingers. I sighed, brushing away my tears. "I can't believe this happened. I thought, I thought thatRugbywas a good guy, one of the few guys in there I could trust, but they're all the same."

Dr. Derby said darkly. "They were working for the Joker. Being surrounded by so much hate, fear and morbid torture, I'm not surprised that they turned out like this."

There was an awkward silence as we stared around us, troubled by the day's occurrences, but sensing a need of urgency around us.

I stared at the small screen in front of us, with a webcam built above the monitor. There was a series of buttons underneath it, and I wondered if one of them would connect us to the police.

"I'm going to try this." I mumbled, my trembling fingers rising up to test the device. "We might be able to send for some back-up for Batman."

"Good idea." He muttered sleepily. "I'll rest for now."

It took me a few attempts to configure the correct sequence I needed to get through to somebody (nothing was labelled, so I wasn't even sure if I was pressing the correct buttons in the first place), and several times the screen showed me a black screen, but eventually, a man appeared on the screen. He frowned at me, and asked me pointedly,

"How did you get on this channel?"

"We're in Batman's car." I said, glancing at the sleeping face of Dr. Derby.

His face turned red as his eyes narrowed on me. He opened his mouth to speak, but I interrupted him.

"I'm sorry, but Batman needs your help. My name is Dr. Charlotte Addley, and this is Dr. Robert Derby."

"The missing Doctors…" He muttered to himself. "Tell me your location; back-up will be with you shortly."

"I'm not sure exactly, we're just in the docks." I moaned sadly, looking around me. "Dock AA-13."

"Don't worry. Stay calm, someone will be with you shortly." He reassured me.

"Okay, Batman is inside the building waiting for the Joker. You need to tell Commissioner Gordon that I have papers revealing the Joker's plan. It's a specific gas bomb, designed to stop the heart in a matter of seconds. He is going to release it all over the world, includingGotham. Please, let him know right away."

"Alright, I'll give him the news myself now. Don't worry, you're safe now."

I leaned back into the seat, relaxing as the screen turned black. I wiped my hands across my face, sighing as I began to pull the papers out of my bra and other various hiding places. I placed them in Dr. Derby's lap, and paused to look outside the Batmobile. I had thought I had heard something, but I saw no-one around.

I began to check the Doctor's heartbeat, wondering if he was going to be alright. He was starting to look a mite pale, but his heartbeat seemed fine. I rolled up his sleeve so that I could inspect the stitches, but just as I unbuttoned his cuff, I heard three sharp tapes against glass.

I paused, wondering if someone was knocking, or whether it was just my imagination, when a shadow fell across my eyes. I looked up. The Joker sat on the bonnet of the Batmobile, cross legged, tapping on the glass with a long, jagged knife. He grinned maliciously at me, then jabbed his thumb behind him.

"I see that the fun started without me." He laughed, gesturing to where I assumedRugby's body lay.

"I wouldn't call it fun, I'd call it defence." I replied bravely, the glass between us giving me courage to speak up.

"But I'm guessing it sent you shivers, right?" He whispered, leaning forward, licking the sides of his mouth. "I can see you enjoyed the adrenaline and the rush that it gave you. I bet you were so surprised how easy it was."

"_Enjoyed_ it? What makes you think I enjoyed it?"

"You are _smiling_, Doctor."


	19. Chapter 19

Thank you for all of the reviews!

* * *

I gritted my teeth as the Joker leaned back, laughing and squealing with glee. I pouted and looked away, upset with myself for showing such weakness. I should have defended myself better. He rapped his knuckles on the glass, and I looked up expectantly.

He wiggled his fingers in front of me, in a silly wave, and growled at him, "I was smiling because I'm going to free of this madness!"

"Sure it is honey, cos it's not like you didn't smile when you performing on the good doctor there, either. You enjoyed it. That carnal urge to wreak havoc and rip and tear the world apart."

"You're mad! What you're talking about is completely different to what I was doing. You're comparing me to you, and I'm not like you." I told him strongly, leaning forward in my seat, eye locked onto him as he stroked the glass between us.

"But you are! Can't you see! Harley, she'll never enjoy danger and destruction the way you do. She enjoys it for me, you see," He giggled at his small rhyme and I rolled me eyes. "Deep down, she's not enjoying it for the sake of enjoying it. You do, though. You don't care who sees when you relish blood and torn muscles. You delighted in it, every oozing muscle, every quivering nerve, you got shivers down your spine, but they were good shivers."

I didn't say a word. There was no point in talking to him when he was insane. It would be like talking a brick wall. A _dangerous_ brick wall.

"Admit it; there was a degree of satisfaction when you finished up on the doctor, right? You were proud of yourself, and pride is one of those ooey, gooey, _exquisite _sins. Together, we're the seven deadly sins! Let's see what sins you've committed, shall we?"

He licked his lips, and held up one hand, holding onto his forefinger carefully. A shiver went down my body, and I held my breath, unsure of where he was going with this.

"Now, we've had pride, that's a good one, but it can be proper stupid too-"

"They're all stupid!" I argued, but he shushed me.

"Let's see. Hmm, wrath? You have shown a fair deal more anger that my other pretty, dirty little playmates have. They usually shut up, but you just can't keep those pert dinky lips closed, can you?"

I thought back over my time spent here. I hated to admit it, but I did mouth off at him once or twice, but that hardly justified wrath, did it?

Like it mattered anyway.

He held his next finger, to show that I had 'apparently' committed two of the seven deadly sins.

"Wait, I only committed those two. I'm not Sloth, or Greed, or Gluttony." I told him. "And there's Envy and Lust."

"Ah!" He intertwined his fingers together and held them in his lap, leaning forward as he turned his head to one side and pressed his head closer to the glass, to get a closer look at him. "But you could be."

"Well that's stupid." I commented. "You're assuming that I'm always going to around you, or vice versa. I'm not going to be in your influence much longer. Batman is, as he has always done, going to put you away in Arkham, I'm going to take a very long holiday abroad, and the whole affair will be blow over in a matter of days. Batman is _that_ good."

"You trust the Batman?" He cackled, brushing one stained, gloved hand through his greasy green hair.

"I'd trust a politician before you." I said coolly. "Of course I'm going to trust Batman. He's freaking _Batman_. Enough said."

He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, though I could tell my words had bothered him. She stared off into the docks silently, and I followed his gaze. He was watching a ferry leaveGotham, and we stared wistfully at it.

"This isn't the end."

He looked at me, in a calm state, and for a moment, I could almost pretend he was human.

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged again, and looked away. I pulled a face, but decided not to pursue it any longer. His ears twitched, and his eyes widened at something. He sat up straighter, and looked behind him. I looked in the same direction, and a few seconds later, I listened to the chorus of cop cars heading straight for us. I smiled, and looked back up at him as he sat hopefully on the bonnet.

"Here we go." He said, a strange glint in his eye.


	20. Chapter 20

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* * *

Some would have not been able to tear their eyes away from the Joker. Some would say that even in his failures, he was magnificent. But to me, it depended on which side of the bullet-proof glass you were on. Even as the cops skidded into a half-circle around us, sirens blaring as the Joker stood on the Batmobile with his arms out wide, welcoming them towards him, you could see the amazement on the officers' faces as they saw his cocky smile and his swagger as he jaunted over to them. All I could bear to look at though, were my own two feet, caked in dust, blood and my hopelessness. I didn't want to think on my own failures in this little adventure, if you could call it that.

I dared not to think about the Joker's words too closely either, his words had cut me deeply, yet at that moment in time, I was not sure why. Despite being a villain, I sensed the truth behind his words. He would destroy this world, and take pleasure in the chaos and fire that came from it.

I glanced up, hope rising in me as the Batman appeared, speaking to Commissioner Gordon, and the Joker… He was twirling a knife around in his hand, but I drew my eyes away, confused and distressed as I tried to rouse Dr. Derby. I had no doubt that Batman would capture the Joker without difficulty, and I needed to get the Doctor ready to move so we could leave as soon as possible.

His eyes opened slowly. "Charlotte?"

"I'm here, we're safe now. Everything is going to be all right." I whispered, placing my hand on his shoulder as I reassured him.

I was never going to be close to tears, I would hold up my battered feelings behind a canopy of confidence until I would be alone in my apartment, but at this moment, I needed to concentrate and get everything together.

"And the gas?"

I paused. I had no idea if _everything_ would be okay, but I knew if that if we all pulled together, then we could stop this madness.

"It's only a matter of time." I told him. "But I need you awake so we can stop this. You need to admit everything to the police, and you need to make more of the antidote."

"Yes, I agree." He replied groggily. "Alright, help me up, I may fall back asleep if I stay like here."

I helped him sit up straighter, reassuring him as it slowly dawned on me that I was free from the Joker. I remember sitting there, my hands beginning to shake as I realised that I would be able to go home that very evening. I'd be able to lie in my own bed and hide from the world. The Joker would be locked away, no doubt his plans would be destroyed, and I could once again get on with my life. I would be free.

Ah, how fate torments me. I should have known that it would not be all that easy. I suppose that in my fragile state of mind, I just didn't want to admit to myself that there was going to be a lot more than asking the Joker some questions and getting the right answers.

I had been sat in the Police station with a blanket wrapped around my shivering body, sipping on some awful, but enlightening coffee. I had realised, sitting there beside graffiti stained walls, that they would probably not let me go without questioning me and harassing me, and if I was very unlucky, they might ask me to stick around for the Joker's interrogation. I sincerely hoped not! I had no desire to stick around only to watch Batman and the Joker squabble over who had the most power in their hands. Though the idea of watching them interact was quite amusing, as how many of my colleagues could say that they had viewed both of them have a battle of wits? Apart from Harleen…

I looked up numbly as some officer approached me. "Comissioner Gordon would like a word."

"I figured as much." I replied, setting down my coffee and removing the blanket from around me. "Lead the way."

We walked in silence along the cold narrow corridors, and I felt isolated as he briskly nodded at a door we stopped outside of, its looming presence terrifying me as I knocked on the door and entered.

Inside, Commissioner Gordon and Batman waited for me, and between them on the desk, was a manila folder waiting for me.

"How can I help you?" I asked numbly. I really didn't want to help them in any way, if I meant getting more involved, but I knew that it wasn't the best time for this sort of attitude.

"I know it's been a rough time for you, and I'm sure that you just want to get the hell of here and get on with your life, but we need you to do something very important for us." Commissioner Gordon said outright.

"Don't I get a dinner and show before you try to use me?" I snapped, getting irritable at his obvious statements.

The commissioner chose to ignore my words, and moved straight on. "I know this is a lot to ask, but we need to know how he is planning to release the gas, and where specifically."

I sighed, and reached out for the folder. I cradled it in my arms as I leafed through it, realising it was the Joker's permanent file, so to speak. "I could take a closer look in here, but I doubt I'll find anything. And we never spoke of his plans; I doubt he even knows that I know about it, so it's not like he's given me any clues."

They gave each other a cautious look, before meeting my eyes. "We were hoping that you would speak to him about it."

"Speak to him?"

"Yes, as your patient."


	21. Chapter 21

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* * *

I stuttered several times before I managed to get a complete sentence out. "Patient? I cater to the rich and stupid, not super villains with intelligence like him! This is crazy, where's his regular psychiatrist?"

Again, they gave each other a tortured look, before telling me. "His former psychiatrist was Dr. Harleen Quinzel, before he turned her into Harley Quinn."

I groaned, burying my head in my hands. "Where is she now?"

"She's in another room. She won't speak to anyone except for the Joker."

"_God_, Harleen." I muttered. "You were never this crazy, but trust you to be difficult."

Batman stepped forward. "Please, Dr. Addly, you're needed for this. If we can find out how he is going to detonate the bombs, and where specifically, then we can put an end to this!"

I looked him in the eyes darkly, and he returned the look with the same. I sighed, and nodded at him dumbly. This was the least I could for them. This was practically the only useful thing I could do for them. I was worthless to them without this one trait of mine, being able to read people, but I didn't think I would be able to read the Joker like I did with most people.

"Okay, but this is _nuts_." I stressed, brushing a hand through my hair before tying it up with a bobble. "And I want you two to keep an eye on me, save me if it gets too dangerous for me, _alright_?"

They mumbled their agreement, and Commissioner Gordon walked me to the door, handing me the Joker's personal file. "Don't worry, and don't let him see you're scared."

"Who said I was scared?" I bit back at him as he walked off.

I entered the room, eyes looking up to meet the Joker in the eyes as he sat across from me, his fingers tapping the table he sat behind roughly, drumming out a strange beat as he grinned at the sight of me.

"Hello, Doctor." He purred, leaning forward. He licked his lips before saying, "I wondered who they would get to examine me. I didn't think they're put you through this, you know."

"Neither did I." I replied, sitting myself down and opening the file.

"A little odd, considering that you're a 'victim' of my crimes." He whispered, lifting his chained hands to create air quotes for the word 'victim'.

"It's interesting how you consider me not as a victim, but as something else. How do you consider me?"

He grinned. "My plaything. My toy. My protégée."

I looked up from the file, surprised. "Protégée? Wouldn't that be Harleen?"

He sniffed, and licked his lips. "No, uh, She came to me willingly, she wanted to be turned."

"Doesn't the student _want_ to be taught?" I wondered aloud.

He laughed. "Sure, if the student _knows_ that they want to be taught. But you don't know, uh; know that you want to be turned."

"So, you want to turn me, because you think that because I don't _know_ that I want to be turned, I get the right to." I chuckled. "Even you have to agree, that's messed up."

"No, no, uh, that's the beauty of it! In you, I've found the fun little toy that I've been missing. Batman has his tank and his toys, and now I have you!"

I felt my eyes widen. "You want to use me against Batman?"

"Sure, toots. Don't you feel like rebelling?"

"How could I be used against Batman? I'm practically the same as Harleen in terms of skill and knowledge, except she minored in gymnastics while I minored in history."

"Yes, yes. But you've got the urge to destroy and wreak havoc! Remember back at the tank?" Here, he wiggled his eyebrows. "I told you that Harley did it all for me, but you do it all for yourself. You do it all for your own sick pleasure. And I want to use that."

Appalled, I forgot about my original intention for talking with him and pursued this issue. "And just how do you think you're going to control me? You have no hold over me."

He shrugged, laughing. "I won't need to have any hold over you. You'll come, sooner or later, and you'll want to, too."

I was beginning to feel like as though the Joker was the doctor and I was the patient. I grumbled under my breath with annoyance, and tried to switch topics.

"And these bombs? Why set them off?"

"…Why not?"

I stared with blunt amazement. He sat before me, leaning back in his chair, staring at me idly, as though those two words were his complete argument.

"Why not?" I questioned stupidly. "Well, I can think of a few good reasons!"

He shrugged once more. "Well, I can't."

"Is the reason as to why you're doing this, is because you know it'll never happen, because Batman will stop you?"

His eye twitched. "You think that, uh, the Batman always beats me?"

I mimicked him, and shrugged. "I've never heard of you beating Batman, it's all over the news about how he always manages to put you back in Arkham. It's true, isn't it?"

He shifted in his seat, and I wondered dumbly if I had hit a sore spot. "I think it is true. You're just going through the motions of having a master plan, but you haven't put the effort in anymore, like you used to. You always had a reason. For example, you blew up the Gotham Bank because you wanted people to detach themselves from their need on the Banks, or at least, that was what you were quoted to have said. Now, you just do it, because that's what you've always done."

He watched me carefully. "So?"

I laughed with surprise. "So, this means that you're not going through with it, because you've been captured already. You were planning this, you were hoping for this. Because it's all you know, it's all that has ever happened. Any different, and you'll have lost. If you managed to actually defeat Batman, you'll have lost a worthy opponent. Your only enemy would be gone, and you'd have no competition, no real reason to try anymore. And because you can't control if Batman will win or not, you've made it easier and easier for him to catch you."

The Joker started to lean in, his eyes trained on me intently. I was off in my own world, new theories the thoughts entering my mind.

"…But you're not having fun any more. It was fun when it was challenging. You were challenging yourself, through Batman. So what's changed? Why are you dumbing yourself down for him…?"

"Doc, I hate to interrupt your tirade, but haven't we got more important things to talk about?" The Joker interrupted, annoyed with me ignoring him as I talked to myself.

I realised he was getting impatient, and bit my tongue to stop myself from saying something stupid. In a way, he was right, I had work to do, and I couldn't let myself get distracted.

"So, we now know that not only do you want to get caught, but you're also allowing Batman to catch you." I summarised. "So from that, I can tell that you expect Batman to discover your plans easily, to prevent the attacks. You must have left the plans out on that desk just for him. No wonder it was just lying there, waiting for him. You wanted him to find them."

Joker tsked at me, and examined his fingernails closely as I continued. He was clearly getting bored with my constant chatter, but he was vaguely listening, which alerted me to the fact I must have been hitting the point.

"So, either you've left all the details in those notes, or there's something he's missed."

"Or _you_ missed." The Joker added casually.

I sat back, interested. "Me? What do I have to do with it?"

He glanced at me from the corner of his eyes. "You are, uh, the Protégée, after all. Call this, a test. We're hitting two birds with one stone, Doc. And there you go, Doctor Addley, an metaphor. You lot do like metaphors, don't you?"

_My lot?_ I wondered. _What could he mean by that? And just what have I missed? Is there clue right in front of me?_

I sat before him, watching him silently. I mulled over his words as he picked the dirt from beneath his nails. He appeared to be doing nothing of importance.

_No, that isn't it. It's something else. Is it in his words? He said I was the student, which would make him the teacher. I'm the protégée, and this is a test. A test designed for me. He's planned every aspect of it. It's test._

I breathed deeply, thinking hard, but I couldn't come up with anything.

_Shame there isn't another student, or I'd probably be tempted to cheat._ I thought mischievously.

I paused on that thought, and looked again at the Joker as he sat biting his nails silently.

"You're talking about Harley." I said quietly. "You want me to ask her."

"In whatever way you'd like." The Joker replied, looking at me triumphantly. "Don't be afraid to break a few bones. Ah heck, uh, you'll be great at it – go wild!"

"You want me to torture her?" I asked, horrified.

"No, just break her. I want you to break my little Harley."

I gasped in horror. "You want your new student to take over your old one. And this is it. You want me to hurt her and make her useless to you so I can take her place."

He grinned. "I knew there was a reason why I liked you."

"But why me? We've hardly spoken, there was no real reason for you to be so interested in me. Surely Harley-"

"Fuck Harley. I want you. I do what I want, and I want you."

Shivers crawled up my spine and I turned away in disgust. I glanced over at the two way mirror, and spat out, "They'll have sent Batman to question her, already."

"I've told her not to talk to anyone but you. She's all yours, Doc." The Joker purred.

"I won't do it." I told him. "I won't do that to her. She worships you. She loves you deeply, and you want to throw that loyalty away on the hope that I might join you?"

The Joker nodded slowly. "Rage, mindfuckery and taking pleasure from pain, you have it, and you don't use it to your advantage. I could show you how to harness it."

"For what purpose? So I can stand by your side while the Batman kicks you to the curb?" It was useless asking him, he was already laughing wildly as he banged his open hands on the desk. "I won't do it! I won't turn into you! I won't!"

"Tick tock, doctor. You've only so much time before the gas is released. You'd better ask her, not me." He laughed, rocking slightly in his seat. "Run, doctor – Run!"

I left as soon as I was given the chance, and was left panting heavily in the corridor as officers tried to control the Joker in the room behind me. I leant against the wall, holding my head up as I tried to clear my mind and catch my breath. He was insane; there was no logic behind his thoughts, not anymore. And now he wanted me to take over Harleen as his sidekick, though I had never shown any interest, or promise for that matter. He wanted me for my rage, and my love of destruction. And I hadn't even argued with him on that point. But that wasn't what had scared me the most. What scared me the most was one detail.

I was beginning to think he was right.


	22. Chapter 22

I stood before the door that would decide my fate. My only concern was Harleen's fragile state of mind. She was probably frightened, and worried for the Joker, and because of this, it was possible that she could lash out at me, especially since she would see my arrival into her personal space as a betrayal and stir up the bad blood between us.

I wringed my hands as I stared at the door. I didn't want to go in. I knew that if she attacked me, I would attack her back, and that was something that neither of us wanted. The past couple of weeks had set my mind on edge, and several times since I had arrived at the police station I had found my hands trembling, or my lips quivering. I needed to get as far away from the Joker and Harleen as I could, and standing here wasn't going to achieve that.

I sighed, and brushed a hand through my hair, my teeth started to chatter, and I mentally told myself off as I abruptly stepped forward to open the door, annoyed with myself for being so weak.

I had expected Harleen to be pacing around, demanding to see the Joker, but I instead found her sitting on the plain, scratched, dirty table, waiting for me.

"I knew they would send you." She told me darkly.

"They didn't send me." I replied. "The Joker did."

Her eyes brightened at the sound of the Joker's name, but then she immediately grew suspicious.

"He told me only to speak to you, but I didn't dare believe that he'd trust you more than anyone else."

"These are not normal circumstances, Harleen." I told her, casually sitting down in the offered chair before.

"My name is Harley Quinn. You know that." She bit back, growling as she towered over me.

"Please, let's not fight. We used to be such good friends." I sighed, looking down into my lap with shame and humiliation. Humiliation at the thought that the Joker was so ready to give up on her.

"Yes, we did. I will not deny that. That is why you are alive." She state coldly.

With the graceful figure that she had, and the years of gymnastic training under her belt, she swiftly flew off the table and spun on her shattered heels to face me. It had happened so fast that I had hardly recognised her.

"So, what news from Mr. J?" She asked, a blush coming to her cheeks.

"Sit tight." I told her. I didn't have the heart to tell her the truth.

"Okie-Dokey!" She sang sweetly, glancing up at the two-way mirror.

My eyebrows rose as I noted the lipstick smudge that was crudely drawn across the mirror. It was an outline of the Batman, but she had given him a smeared lipstick slice across where his mouth should have been.

"Do you really hate the Batman, or is that just a by-product of your love for the Joker?"

"He's mean to my Joker." Harleen confirmed.

"But he saves so many lives." I counter-attacked.

"So then why does he hurt _him_?" Harleen moaned, like a child.

"Because your Joker would hardly come along to the police station of his own free will." I told her, jotting down in my notebook, '_Dedication__to__the__Joker__is__severe,__doesn__'__t__seem__to__understand__the__Joker__'__s__love__of__anarchy__and__demolition,__perhaps__doesn__'__t__crave__it__herself?_'.

"But we're trying to help humankind! To see the fun side of life!" She said weakly.

I gritted my teeth. "So its fun for the hundreds of people hurt because of the Joker? Sisters, brothers, mothers and fathers lost, in the name of fun?"

Harley faltered, and I could see it in her eyes that she saw it that way too. "It's not like that."

"So tell me, what is it like? I'd love for you to explain it to me." I told her.

She sauntered over, and sat in the chair opposite me. "Don't you think that everyone has been asking me that? The number of psychiatrists that have done the same things as you? I know the same tricks as you, don't forget."

"Yes, that may be true, but unlike you, I know the difference between business and personal relationships."

"And look where you are now! _You__'__re_ psycho-analysing your friend! At least I'm doing what I want to do!"

"The Joker has tricked you Harley, he's using you. And now he wants to use me. He got you to join him through your love of him. He's trying to get me through my love of …"

Harley leaned in, and my fingers started to tremble. "What did you say?"

I faltered; staring at her like a deer would do in headlights. "About what?"

"He wants to use you?" Harley asked incredulously.

"Um…" I hesitated, My hands were shivering quite alarmingly by now.

"Are you serious?"

"Harleen, I…" My hands shook violently as a note of pity entered my voice.

"_I __TOLD __YOU, __MY __NAME __IS __HARLEY!_-" And with a terrific roar, she leapt out of her seat and pounced onto me, sending me to the floor with a loud thud.

"Ah-uh!" I groaned, my back had banged sharply against my chair, and Harley now sat on my hips, her hands pressed hard against my shoulders to keep me down.

"Tell me again, I dare you." She hissed, lowering her face down to mine.

I felt my eyes narrow as I stared up at her. I had no more pity left in me for her. I would not allow her to turn me into a weak fool.

"He chose me, _Harley_." I muttered, mocking the name he had chosen for me. "He wants to drop you like you were a bag of broken toys."

She gave a low, guttural noise, like feral creature, and gathered up a handful of hair from around my forehead, and lifted it up.

"Let's find out who the broken toy is then." She smashed the back of my head against the chair I rested against, and I cried in agony as I lay on the floor, head reeling from the attack.

I felt her lift off me, but I felt too dizzy to even see where she went, let alone get myself off of the floor. I heard the door behind me click, and I rolled over onto my stomach as I tried to clear my vision and focus on what she was doing. It had looked as though she had stuff a hairpin into the lock of the door to keep it jammed.

I looked up to see her stand over me, grinning.

"Let's play." She muttered darkly, lifting one foot up high, presumably to stomp down on my head.

Well. I certainly wasn't going to let _that_ happen.

I swung one arm around to strike the ankle that she hadn't raised, smiling with relief as my forearm hit her, and she wobbled slightly, trying to keep her balance. That was, until I struck her calf with stronger force, and she fell sideways, stunning her.

The door began to bang and shake angrily as I heard Commissioner Gordon's voice shout through the steel door, but I ignored him and raised myself up wearily, head still swaying from her previous attack, and I tried to steady myself on my feet before she got up, but I was too late. I had obviously not shaken her up enough, as she rugby tackled me around my hips and shoved me into the mirror behind me.

I screamed as I felt the mirror shatter behind me, and thousands of small, prickling jabs ripped into my back. I doubled over as Harley pulled away, softly laughing to herself. I dropped to the floor, perched on the balls of my feet, curling up into a ball as I willed the pains in my stomach, where her head had buried itself into me as she pushed me into the mirror, to stop. She laughed again, louder.

"He wants you? Of all people, he wants a feeble, stupid girl!" She laughed in disbelief.

_I__'__m__not__feeble,__I__'__m__not__stupid_. I thought angrily.

I lurched forward, and I held out hands out to steady myself. My hands, I realised, were no longer shaking. They were steady, and poised, ready to fight.

_I__could__kill__her__with__these__hands.__I__really__could._ I thought darkly. _He__wants__me__to,__doesn__'__t__he?_

I shook my head, clearing my thoughts. I wouldn't succumb to his way of thinking. Harleen was still my friend, despite her actions. I looked around me, looking to defend myself against her next attack.

"I'll show him how strong I am. I'll win him back, and then you'll be sorry you were entered our lives."

I think that in the current hero/villain principle, my next action would be to say something witty, and then do something drastic, but I wasn't in the mood for playing along with the social conventions, so I skipped all of that and grabbed the nearest shard of glass and sprung myself up, burying the shard in her thigh.

She shrieked in horror, and jumped back. I shakily got to my feet, my hand dripping with blood as the shard I carried sliced into my skin. I kept it aimed nonetheless at her throat and warned her,

"Stop this, please."

I watched as she breathed heavily, her eyes locked with mine. She sniffed, rubbing her nose with her sleeve, and we both began to calm down a little. I could see the fragility in her eyes, and I knew to act upon it now.

"I rather die than let you become his little fuck buddy." She growled, tears entering her eyes.

"You think I want to replace you? _I__'__d_ rather die. I don't want anything to do with him. You can have him, as far as I'm concerned. But he doesn't want you. That's why I'm here. He wants me to get rid of you. He wants me to _kill_ you, Harley."

Her face softened. "What?" She asked in a soft, mewling voice. "No…"

"Harley…" She began to cry and I felt pity enter back into my voice. "Harley, listen. I won't kill you. But you have to stop this madness. He's gone too far. It was just robbing banks and stripping socialites of their jewels before. Now, he wants to destroy the world. Can't you see how bad that is? And bad it is for you, too?"

Her body began to tremble as she burst into tears. "I know, _I__know_! But I can't change his mind. I want him back to the way he was before. But he won't listen. He thinks I've gotten weak now."

I laughed softly, and she looked up. I pointed at my head. "I don't know any other girl who would have the strength to do this to another person. You're definitely not weak, Harleen."

She hiccupped, and nodded. "You can keep calling me that."

"It is your name after all." I told her, dropping my shard. "It belongs to you, and the Joker can't take that away. He can keep his Harley, but you'll always be Harleen, to me."

She nodded again, avoiding my eyes, humiliated. "All of the things he's done…"

"I know-"

"…And I still love him." She said.

I smirked. "It wouldn't be love if you didn't."

She beamed at me. "You're still a fucking idiot, though." I told her sharply.

She felt the unsympathetic note in my voice, and nodded.

"Now, wanna help the good guys win, for once?" I asked her.

She looked at me, straight into my eyes, and nodded. "I'll tell you everything."


End file.
